EDUCAl'ION.DEPT. 


GENTLE   MEASURES 


IN  THE 


MANAGEMENT  AND   TRAINING 
OF   THE  YOUNG. 


GENTLE  MEASURES 


IN  THE 

MANAGEMENT  AND  TRAINING 
OF  THE  YOUNG; 

OR, 

THE  PRINCIPLES  ON  WHICH  A  FIRM  PARENTAL  AUTHORITY  MAY  BE 
ESTABLISHED  AND  MAINTAINED,  WITHOUT  VIOLENCE  OR  ANGER, 
AND  THE  RIGHT  DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  MORAL  AND  MEN 
TAL  CAPACITIES  BE  PROMOTED  BY  METHODS  IN  HAR 
MONY  WITH  THE  STRUCTURE  AND  THE  CHARAC 
TERISTICS   OF  THE  JUVENILE  MIND. 

BY  JACOB  ABBOTT, 

AUTHOR  OF  "SCIENCE  FOR  THE  YOUNG,"  "HARPER'S  STORY  BOOKS,"  "FRANCOXIA 
STORIES,"  "ABBOTT'S  ILLUSTRATED  HISTORIES,"  ETO. 

NUMEROUS  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


NEW    YORK: 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN     SQUARE. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871,  by 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 

EDUCATION  DEFT. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  PAG* 

THREE  MODES  OF  MANAGEMENT  ............................................     11 

CHAPTER  II. 
WHAT  ARE  GENTLE  MEASURES?  ....................................  .  .......     1C 


CHAPTER  III. 
THERE  MUST  BE  AUTHORITY  .................................................     26 

CHAPTER  IV. 
GENTLE  PUNISHMENT  OF  DISOBEDIENCE  ..................................    43 

CHAPTER  V. 
THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PUNISHMENT  .........................................     CO 

CHAPTER  VI. 
REWARDING  OBEDIENCE  .......................................................     81 

CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  ART  OF  TRAINING  .........................................................    94 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
METHODS  EXEMPLIFIED  ........................................................  105 

CHAPTER  IX. 
BELLA  AND  THE  DOLLS  ...........................................  .  ............  114 

CHAPTER  X. 
SYMPATHY:  —  I.  THE  CHILD  WITH  THE  PARENT  ........................  121 

CHAPTER  XI. 
SYMPATHY  :—  II.  THE  PARENT  WITH  THE  CHILD  .......................  131 

CHAPTER  XII. 
COMMENDATION  AND  ENCOURAGEMENT  .....................................  144 


viii  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XIII.  PAQB 

FAULTS  OF  IMMATURITY 160 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
THE  ACTIVITY  OF  CHILDREN 177 

CHAPTER  XV. 
THE  IMAGINATION  IN  CHILDREN 196 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
TRUTH  AND  FALSEHOOD 215 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING 228 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
WISHES  AND  REQUESTS 244 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
CHILDREN'S  QUESTIONS 254 

CHAPTER  XX. 
THE  USE  OF  MONEY 268 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
CORPORAL  PUNISHMENT 281 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
GRATITUDE  IN  CHILDREN 295 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
RELIGIOUS  TRAINING 308 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
CONCLUSION 327 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGB 
AUTHORITY Frontispiece. 

INDULGENCE 36 

U!T  is  NOT  SAFE" ~. 73 

THE  LESSON  IN  OBEDIENCE 99 

ROUNDABOUT  INSTRUCTION 116 

AFRAID  OF  THE  Cow 139 

THE  INTENTION  GOOD 168 

THE  IMAGINATIVE  FACULTY 206 

STORY  OF  THE  HORSE 234 

"MOTHER,  WHAT  MAKES  IT  SNOW?" 260 

THE  RUNAWAY 284 

THE  FIRST  INSTINCT...,  , 314 


A2 


GENTLE  MEASURES, 


CHAPTER  I. 
THE  THREE  MODES  OF  MANAGEMENT. 

IT  is  not  impossible  that  in  the  minds  of  some  persons 
the  idea  of  employing  gentle  measures  in  the  management 
and  training  of  children  may  seem  to  imply  the  abandon 
ment  of  the  principle  of  authority,  as  the  basis  of  the  pa 
rental  government,  and  the  substitution  of  some  weak  and 
inefficient  system  of  artifice  and  manoeuvring  in  its  place. 
To  suppose  that  the  object  of  this  work  is  to  aid  in  effect 
ing  such  a  substitution  as  that,  is  entirely  to  mistake  its  na 
ture  and  design.  The  only  government  of  the  parent  over 
the  child  that  is  worthy  of  the  name  is  one  of  authority — 
complete,  absolute,  unquestioned  authority.  The  object  of 
this  work  is,  accordingly,  not  to  show  how  the  gentle  meth 
ods  which  will  be  brought  to  view  can  be  employed  as  a 
substitute  for  such  authority,  but  how  they  can  be  made  to 
aid  in  establishing  and  maintaining  it. 

Three  Methods. 

There  are  three  different  modes  of  management  custom 
arily  employed  by  parents  as  means  of  inducing  their  chil 
dren  to  comply  with  their  requirements.  They  are, 

1.  Government  by  Manoeuvring  and  Artifice. 

2.  By  Reason  and  Affection. 

3.  By  Authority. 


13  GENTjLE  MEASURES. 


,  t>,    .  iriff  'and  Artifice. 

I.'  \Mitiy  ''mothers'  Cubage'  their  children  by  means  of 
tricks  and  contrivances,  more  or  less  adroit,  designed  to 
avoid  direct  issues  with  them,  and  to  beguile  them,  as  it 
were,  into  compliance  with'  their  wishes.  As,  for  example, 
where  a  mother,  recovering  from  sickness,  is  going  out  to 
take  the  air  with  her  husband  for  the  first  time,  and  —  as  she 
is  still  feeble  —  wishes  for  a  very  quiet  drive,  and  so  con 
cludes  not  to  take  little  Mary  with  her,  as  she  usually  does 
on  such  occasions  ;  but  knowing  that  if  Mary  sees  the 
chaise  at  the  door,  and  discovers  that  her  father  and  moth 
er  are  going  in  it,  she  will  be  very  eager  to  go  too,  she 
adopts  a  system  of  manoeuvres  to  conceal  her  design.  She 
brings  down  her  bonnet  and  shawl  by  stealth,  and  before 
the  chaise  comes  to  the  door  she  sends  Mary  out  into  the 
garden  with  her  sister,  under  pretense  of  showing  her  a 
bird's  nest  which  is  not  there,  trusting  to  her  sister's  skill 
in  diverting  the  child's  mind,  and  amusing  her  with  some 
thing  else  in  the  garden,  until  the  chaise  has  gone.  And 
if,  either  from  hearing  the  sound  of  the  wheels,  or  from 
any  other  cause,  Mary's  suspicions  are  awakened  —  and 
children  habitually  managed  on  these  principles  soon  learn 
to  be  extremely  distrustful  and  suspicious  —  and  she  insists 
on  going  into  the  house,  and  thus  discovers  the  stratagem, 
then,  perhaps,  her  mother  tells  her  that  they  are  only  going 
to  the  doctor's,  and  that  if  Mary  goes  with  them,  the  doctor 
will  give  her  some  dreadful  medicine,  and  compel  her  to 
take  it,  thinking  thus  to  deter  her  from  insisting  on  going 
with  them  to  ride. 

As  the  chaise  drives  away,  Mary  stands  bewildered  and 
perplexed  on  the  door-step,  her  mind  in  a  tumult  of  excite 
ment,  in  which  hatred  of  the  doctor,  distrust  and  suspicion 
of  her  mother,  disappointment,  vexation,  and  ill  humor,  surge 


THE  THREE  MODES  OF  MANAGEMENT.  la 

and  swell  among  those  delicate  organizations  on  which 
the  structure  and  development  of  the  soul  so  closely  de 
pend — doing  perhaps  an  irreparable  injury.  The  moth 
er,  as  soon  as  the  chaise  is  so  far  turned  that  Mary  can  no 
longer  watch  the  expression  of  her  countenance,  goes  away 
from  the  door  with  a  smile  of  complacency  and  satisfac 
tion  upon  her  face  at  the  ingenuity  and  success  of  her  little 
artifice. 

In  respect  to  her  statement  that  she  was  going  to  the 
doctor's,  it  may,  or  may  not,  have  been  true.  Most  likely 
not ;  for  mothers  who  manage  their  children  on  this  sys 
tem  find  the  line  of  demarkation  between  deceit  and  false 
hood  so  vague  and  ill  defined  that  they  soon  fall  into  the 
habit  of  disregarding  it  altogether,  and  of  saying,  without 
hesitation,  any  thing  which  will  serve  the  purpose  in  view. 

Governing  l>y  Reason  and  Affection. 

2.  The  theory  of  many  mothers  is  that  they  must  gov 
ern  their  children  by  the  influence  of  reason  and  affection. 
Their  method  may  be  exemplified  by  supposing  that,  under 
circumstances  similar  to  those  described  under  the  preced 
ing  head,  the  mother  calls  Mary  to  her  side,  and,  smoothing 
her  hair  caressingly  with  her  hand  while  she  speaks,  says 
to  her, 

"  Mary,  your  father  and  I  are  going  out  to  ride  this  af 
ternoon,  and  I  am  going  to  explain  it  all  to  you  why  you 
can  not  go  too.  You  see,  I  have  been  sick,  and  am  getting 
well,  and  I  am  going  out  to  ride,  so  that  I  may  get  well 
faster.  You  love  mamma,  I  am  sure,  and  wish  to  have  her 
get  well  soon.  So  you  will  be  a  good  girl,  I  know,  and 
not  make  any  trouble,  but  will  stay  at  home  contentedly — 
won't  you?  Then  I  shall  love  you,  and  your  papa  will 
love  you,  and  after  I  get  well  we  will  take  you  to  ride  with 
us  some  day." 


14  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

The  mother,  in  managing  the  case  in  this  way,  relies  part 
ly  on  convincing  the  reason  of  the  child,  and  partly  on  an 
appeal  to  her  affection. 

Governing  by  Authority. 

3.  By  the  third  method  the  mother  secures  the  compli 
ance  of  the  child  by  a  direct  exercise  of  authority.  She 
says  to  her — the  circumstances  of  the  case  being  still  sup 
posed  to  be  the  same — 

"  Mary,  your  father  and  I  are  going  out  to  ride  this  after 
noon,  and  I  am  sorry,  for  your  sake,  that  we  can  not  take 
you  with  us." 

"  Why  can't  you  take  me  ?"  asks  Mary. 

"  I  can  not  tell  you  why,  now,"  replies  the  mother, "  but 
perhaps  I  will  explain  it  to  you  after  I  come  home.  I  think 
there  is  a  good  reason,  and,  at  any  rate,  I  have  decided  that 
you  are  not  to  go.  If  you  are  a  good  girl,  and  do  not  make 
any  difficulty,  you  can  have  your  little  chair  out  upon  the 
front  door-step,  and  can  see  the  chaise  come  to  the  door, 
and  see  your  father  and  me  get  in  and  drive  away;  and 
you  can  wave  your  handkerchief  to  us  for  a  good-bye." 

Then,  if  she  observes  any  expression  of  discontent  or 
insubmission  in  Mary's  countenance,  the  mother  would 
add, 

"  If  you  should  not  be  a  good  girl,  but  should  show  signs 
of  making  us  any  trouble,  I  shall  have  to  send  you  out 
somewhere  to  the  back  part  of  the  house  until  we  are 
gone." 

But  this  last  supposition  is  almost  always  unnecessary; 
for  if  Mary  has  been  habitually  managed  on  this  principle 
she  will  not  make  any  trouble.  She  will  perceive  at  once 
that  the  question  is  settled — settled  irrevocably — and  espe 
cially  that  it  is  entirely  beyond  the  power  of  any  demon 
strations  of  insubmission  or  rebellion  that  she  can  make  to 


THE  THREE  MODES  OF  MANAGEMENT.  15 

change  it.  She  will  acquiesce  at  once.*  She  may  be  sorry 
that  she  can  not  go,  but  she  will  make  no  resistance.  Those 
children  only  attempt  to  carry  their  points  by  noisy  and 
violent  demonstrations  who  find,  by  experience,  that  such 
measures  are  usually  successful.  A  child,  even,  who  has 
become  once  accustomed  to  them,  will  soon  drop  them  if 
she  finds,  owin<r  to  a  change  in  the  system  of  management, 
that  they  now  never  succeed.  And  a  child  who  never,  from 
the  beginning,  finds  any  efficiency  in  them,  never  learns  to 
employ  them  at  all. 

Conclusion. 

Of  the  three  methods  of  managing  children  exemplified 
In  this  chapter,  the  last  is  the  only  one  which  can  be  fol 
lowed  either  with  comfort  to  the  parent  or  safety  to  the 
child  ;  and  to  show  how  this  method  can  be  brought  effect 
ually  into  operation  by  gentle  measures  is  the  object  of  this 
book.  It  is,  indeed,  true  that  the  importance  of  tact  and 
skill  in  the  training  of  the  young,  and  of  cultivating  their 
reason,  and  securing  their  affection,  can  not  be  overrated. 
But  the  influences  secured  by  these  means  form,  at  the 
best,  but  a  sandy  foundation  for  filial  obedience  to  rest 
upon.  The  child  is  not  to  be  made  to  comply  with  the  re 
quirements  of  his  parents  by  being  artfully  inveigled  into 
compliance,  nor  is  his  obedience  to  rest  on  his  love  for  fa 
ther  and  mother,  and  his  unwillingness  to  displease  them, 
nor  on  his  conviction  of  the  rightfulness  and  reasonable 
ness  of  their  commands,  but  on  simple  submission  to  au 
thority —  that  absolute  and  almost  unlimited  authority 
which  all  parents  are  commissioned  by  God  and  nature  to 
exercise  over  their  offspring  during  the  period  while  the 
offspring  remain  dependent  upon  their  care. 

*  See  Frontispiece. 


10  GENTLE  MEASURES. 


CHAPTER  II. 

WHAT  AllE  GENTLE  MEASURES? 

IT  being  thus  distinctly  understood  that  the  gentle  meas 
ures  in  the  training  of  children  herein  recommended  are 
not  to  be  resorted  to  as  a  substitute  for  parental  authority, 
but  as  the  easiest  and  most  effectual  means  of  establishing 
and  maintaining  that  authority  in  its  most  absolute  form, 
\vc  have  now  to  consider  what  the  nature  of  these  gentle 
measures  is,  and  by  what  characteristics  they  are  distin 
guished,  in  their  action  and  influence,  from  such  as  may  be 
considered  more  or  less  violent  and  harsh. 

Gentle  measures  are  those  which  tend  to  exert  a  calming, 
quieting,  and  soothing  influence  on  the  mind,  or  to  produce 
only  such  excitements  as  are  pleasurable  in  their  character, 
as  means  of  repressing  wrong  and  encouraging  right  ac 
tion.  Ungentle  measures  are  those  which  tend  to  inflame 
and  irritate  the  mind,  or  to  agitate  it  with  painful  excite 
ments. 

Three  Degrees  of  Violence. 

There  seem  to  be  three  grades  or  forms  of  violence  to 
which  a  mother  may  resort  in  controlling  her  children,  or, 
perhaps,  rather  three  classes  of  measures  which  are  more 
or  less  violent  in  their  effects.  To  illustrate  these  we  will 
take  an  example. 

Case  supposed. 

One  day  Louisa,  four  years  old,  asked  her  mother  for  an 
apple.  "Have  you  had  any  already?"  asked  her  mother. 


WHAT  ARE  GENTLE  MSA3U&JE8!  1? 

"  Only  one,"  replied  Louisa.  "  Then  Bridget  may  give  you 
another,"  said  the  mother. 

"What  Louisa  said  was  not  true.  She  had  already  eaten 
two  apples.  Bridget  heard  the  falsehood,  but  she  did  not 
consider  it  her  duty  to  betray  the  child,  so  she  said  noth 
ing.  The  mother,  however,  afterwards,  in  the  course  of  the 
day,  accidentally  ascertained  the  truth. 

Now,  as  we  have  said,  there  are  three  grades  in  the  kind 
and  character  of  the  measures  which  may  be  considered  vi 
olent  that  a  mother  may  resort  to  in  a  case  like  this. 

Bodily  Punishment. 

1.  First,  there  is  the  infliction  of  bodily  pain.  The  child 
may  be  whipped,  or  tied  to  the  bed-post,  and  kept  in  a  con 
strained  and  uncomfortable  position  for  a  long  time,  or  shut 
up  in  solitude  and  darkness,  or  punished  by  the  infliction  of 
bodily  suffering  in  other  ways. 

And  there  is  no  doubt  that  there  is  a  tendency  in  such 
treatment  to  correct  or  cure  the  fault.  But  measures  like 
these,  whether  successful  or  not,  are  certainly  violent  meas 
ures.  They  shock  the  whole  nervous  system,  sometimes 
with  the  excitement  of  pain  and  terror,  and  always,  prob 
ably,  with  that  of  resentment  and  anger.  In  some  cases 
this  excitement  is  extreme.  The  excessively  delicate  or 
ganization  of  the  brain,  through  which  such  agitations 
reach  the  sensorium,  and  which,  in  children  of  an  early  age, 
is  in  its  most  tender  and  sensitive  state  of  development,  is 
subjected  to  a  most  intense  and  violent  agitation. 

Evil  Effects  of  Violence  in  this  Form. 
The  evil  effects  of  this  excessive  cerebral  action  may  per 
haps  entirely  pass  away  in  a  few  hours,  and  leave  no  trace 
of  injury  behind  ;  but  then,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  cer 
tainly  reason  to  fear  that  such  commotions,  especially  if 


18  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

often  repeated,  tend  to  impede  the  regular  and  healthful 
development  of  the  organs,  and  that  they  may  become  the 
origin  of  derangements,  or  of  actual  disorganizations,  re 
sulting  very  seriously  in  future  years.  It  is  impossible, 
perhaps,  to  know  with  certainty  whether  permanent  ill  ef 
fects  follow  in  such  cases  or  not.  At  any  rate,  such  a  rem 
edy  is  a  violent  one. 

The  Frightening  System. 

2.  There  is  a  second  grade  of  violence  in  the  treatment 
of  such  a  case,  which  consists  in  exciting  pain  or  terror,  or 
other  painful  or  disagreeable  emotions,  through  the  imagi 
nation,  by  presenting  to  the  fancy  of 'the  child  images  of 
phantoms,  hobgoblins,  and  other  frightful  monsters,  whose 
ire,  it  is  pretended,  is  greatly  excited  by  the  misdeeds  of 
children,  and  who  come  in  the  night-time  to  take  them 
away,  or  otherwise  visit  them  with  terrible  retribution. 
Domestic  servants  are  very  prone  to  adopt  this  mode  of 
discipline.  Being  forbidden  to  resort  to  personal  violence 
as  a  means  of  exciting  pain  and  terror,  they  attempt  to  ac 
complish  the  same  end  by  other  means,  which,  however,  in 
many  respects,  are  still  more  injurious  in  their  action. 

Management  of  Nurses  and  Scr cants. 

Nurses  and  attendants  upon  children  from  certain  nation 
alities  in  Europe  are  peculiarly  disposed  to  employ  this 
method  of  governing  children  placed  under  their  care. 
One  reason  is  that  they  are  accustomed  to  this  mode  of 
management  at  home;  and  another  is  that  many  of  them 
are  brought  up  under  an  idea,  which  prevails  extensively 
in  some  of  those  countries,  that  it  is  right  to  tell  falsehoods 
where  the  honest  object  is  to  accomplish  a  charitable  or 
useful  end.  Accordingly,  inasmuch  as  the  restraining  of 
the  children  from  wrong  is  a  good  and  useful  object,  they 


WHAT  ARE  GENTLE  MEASURES?  i<J 

can  declare  the  existence  of  giants  and  hobgoblins,  to  carry 
away  and  devour  bad  girls  and  boys,  with  an  air  of  pos- 
itiveness  and  seeming  honesty,  and  with  a  calm  and  persist 
ent  assurance,  which  aids  them  very  much  in  producing  on 
the  minds  of  the  children  a  conviction  of  the  truth  of  what 
they  say  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  those  who,  in  theory  at 
least,  occupy  the  position  that  the  direct  falsifying  of  one's 
word  is  never  justifiable,  act  at  a,  disadvantage  in  attempt 
ing  this  method.  For  although,  in  practice,  they  are  often 
inclined  to  make  an  exception  to  their  principles  in  regard 
to  truth  in  the  case  of  what  is  said  to  young  children,  they 
can  not,  after  all,  tell  children  what  they  know  to  be  not 
true  with  that  bold  and  confident  air  necessary  to  carry  full 
conviction  to  the  children's  minds.  They  are  embarrassed 
by  a  kind  of  half  guilty  feeling,  which,  partially  at  least,  be 
trays  them,  and  the  children  do  not  really  and  fully  believe 
what  they  say.  They  can  not  suppose  that  their  mother 
would  really  tell  them  what  she  knew  was  false,  and  yet 
they  can  not  help  perceiving  that  she  does  not  speak  and 
look  as  if  what  she  was  saying  was  actually  true. 

Monsieur  and  Madame  Croquemitaine. 
In  all  countries  there  are  many,  among  even  the  most 
refined  and  highly  cultivated  classes,  who  are  not  at  all  em 
barrassed  by  any  moral  delicacy  of  this  kind.  This  is  espe 
cially  the  case  in  those  countries  in  Europe,  particularly  on 
the  Continent,  where  the  idea  above  referred  to,  of  the  al- 
lowableness  of  falsehood  in  certain  cases  as  a  means  for 
the  attainment  of  a  good  end,  is  generally  entertained. 
The  French  have  two  terrible  bugbears,  under  the  names 
of  Monsieur  and  Madame  Croquemitaine,  who  are  as  famil 
iar  to  the  imaginations  of  French  children  as  Santa  Claus 
is,  in  a  much  more  agreeable  way,  to  the  juvenile  fancy  at 
our  firesides.  Monsieur  and  Madame  Croquemitaine  are 


20  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

frightful  monsters,  who  come  down  the  chimney,  or  through 
the  roof,  at  night,  arid  cany  off  bad  children.  They  learn 
from  their  little  fingers — which  whisper  in  their  ears  when 
they  hold  them  near — who  the  bad  children  are,  where  they 
live,  and  what  they  have  done.  The  instinctive  faith  of 
young  children  in  their  mother's  truthfulness  is  so  strong 
that  no  absurdity  seems  gross  enougli  to  overcome  it. 

The  Black  Man  and  the  Policeman. 
There  are  many  mothers  among  us  who — though  not 
quite  prepared  to  call  in  the  aid  of  ghosts,  giants,  and  hob 
goblins,  or  of  Monsieur  and  Madame  Croquemitaine,  in 
managing  their  children — still,  sometimes,  try  to  eke  out 
their  failing  authority  by  threatening  them  with  the  "  black 
man,"  or  the  "  policeman,"  or  some  other  less  supernatural 
terror.  They  seem  to  imagine  that  inasmuch  as,  while  there 
is  no  such  thing  in  existence  as  a  hobgoblin,  there  really 
are  policemen  and  prisons,  they  only  half  tell  an  untruth  by 
saying  to  the  recalcitrant  little  one  that  a  policeman  is  com 
ing  to  carry  him  off  to  jail. 

Injurious  Effects. 

Although,  by  these  various  modes  of  exciting  imaginary 
fears,  there  is  no  direct  and  outward  infliction  of  bodily 
suffering,  the  effect  produced  on  the  delicate  organization 
of  the  brain  by  such  excitements  is  violent  in  the  extreme. 
The  paroxysms  of  agitation  and  terror  which  they  some 
times  excite,  and  which  are  often  spontaneously  renewed 
by  darkness  and  solitude,  and  by  other  exciting  causes,  are 
of  the  nature  of  temporary  insanity.  Indeed,  the  extreme 
nervous  excitability  which  they  produce  sometimes  becomes 
a  real  insanity,  which,  though  it  may,  in  many  cases,  be 
finally  outgrown,  may  probably  in  many  others  lead  to  last 
ing  and  most  deplorable  results. 


WHAT  ARE  GENTLE  MEASURES?  21 

Harsh  Reproofs  and  TJireateninys. 

3.  There  is  a,  third  mode  of  treatment,  more  common, 
perhaps,  among  us  than   either  of  the  preceding,  which, 
though  much  milder  in  its  character  than  they,  we   still 
class  among  the  violent  measures,  on  account  of  its  opera 
tion  and  effects.     It  consists  of  stern  and  harsh  rebukes, 
denunciations  of  the  heinousness  of  the  sin  of  falsehood, 
with  solemn  premonitions  of  the  awful  consequences  of  it, 
in  this  life  and  in  that  to  come,  intended  to  awaken  feelings 
of  alarm  and  distress  in  the  mind  of  the  child,  as  a  means 
of  promoting  repentance  and  reformation.     These  are  not 
violent  measures,  it  is  true,  so  far  as  outward  physical  ac 
tion  is  concerned ;  but  the  effects  which  they  produce  arc 
sometimes  of  quite  a  violent  nature,  in  their  operation  on 
the  delicate  nervous  and  mental  susceptibilities  which  are 
excited  and  agitated  by  them.     If  the  mother  is  successful 
in  making  the  impression  which  such  a  mode  of  treatment 
is  designed  to  produce,  the  child,  especially  if  a  girl,  is  agi 
tated  and  distressed.     Her  nervous  system  is  greatty  dis 
turbed.     If  calmed  for  a  time,  the  paroxysm  is  very  liable 
to  return.     She  wakes  in  the  night,  perhaps,  with  an  inde 
finable  feeling   of  anxiety  and  terror,  and  comes   to  her 
mother's  bedside,  to  seek,  in  her  presence,  and  in  the  sense 
of  protection  which  it  affords,  a  relief  from  her  distress. 

The  conscientious  mother,  supremely  anxious  to  secure 
the  best  interests  of  her  child,  may  say  that,  after  all,  it  is 
better  that  she  should  endure  this  temporary  suffering  than 
not  be  saved  from  the  sin.  This  is  true.  But  if  she  can 
be  saved  just  as  effectually  without  it,  it  is  better  still. 

The  Gentle  Method  of  Treatment. 

4.  We  now  come  to  the  gentle  measures  which  may  be 
adopted  in  a  case  of  discipline  like  this.     They  are  endless- 


22  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

ly  varied  in  form,  but,  to  illustrate  the  nature  and  operation 
of  them,  and  the  spirit  and  temper  of  mind  with  which  they 
should  be  enforced,  with  a,  view  of  communicating  to  the 
mind  of  the  reader  some  general  idea  of  the  characteris 
tics  of  that  gentleness  of  treatment  which  it  is  the  object 
of  this  work  to  commend,  we  will  describe  an  actual  case, 
substantially  as  it  really  occurred,  where  a  child,  whom  WTO 
will  still  call  Louisa,  told  her  mother  a  falsehood  about  the 
apple,  as  already  related. 

Choosing  the  Right,  Time. 

Her  mother — though  Louisa's  manner,  at  the  time  of  giv 
ing  her  answer,  led  her  to  feel  somewhat  suspicious — did 
not  express  her  suspicions,  but  gave  her  the  additional  ap 
ple.  Nor  did  she  afterwards,  when  she  ascertained  the 
facts,  say  any  thing  on  the  subject.  The  day  passed  away 
as  if  nothing  unusual  had  occurred.  When  bed-time  came 
she  undressed  the  child  and  laid  her  in  her  bed,  playing 
with  her,  and  talking  with  her  in  an  amusing  manner  all 
the  time,  so  as  to  bring  her  into  a  contented  and  happy 
frame  of  mind,  and  to  establish  as  close  a  connection  as 
possible  of  affection  and  sympathy  between  them.  Then, 
finally,  when  the  child's  prayer  had  been  said,  and  she  was 
about  to  be  left  for  the  night,  her  mother,  sitting  in  a  chair 
at  the  head  of  her  little  bed,  and  putting  her  hand  lovingly 
upon  her,  said : 

The  Story. 

"  But  first  I  must  tell  you  one  more  little  story. 

"  Once  there  was  a  boy,  and  his  name  was  Ernest.  He 
was  a  pretty  large  boy,  for  he  was  five  years  old." 

Louisa,  it  must  be  recollected,  was  only  four. 

"  He  was  a  very  pretty  boy.  He  had  bright  blue  eyes 
and  curling  hair.  He  was  a  very  good  boy,  too.  He  did 


WHAT  AEE  GENTLE  MEASURES?  23 

not  like  to  do  any  thing  wrong.  He  always  found  that  it 
made  him  feel  uncomfortable  and  unhappy  afterwards  when 
he  did  any  thing  wrong.  A  good  many  children,  especially 
good  children,  find  that  it  makes  them  feel  uncomfortable 
and  unhappy  when  they  do  wrong.  Perhaps  you  do." 

"  Yes,  mamma,  I  do,"  said  Louisa. 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,"  replied  her  mother ;  "  that  is  a  good 
sign." 

"  Ernest  went  one  day,"  added  the  mother,  continuing  her 
story,  "  with  his  little  cousin  Anna  to  their  uncle's,  in  hopes 
that  he  would  give  them  some  apples.  Their  uncle  had  :i 
beautiful  garden,  and  in  it  there  was  an  apple-tree  which 
bore  most  excellent  apples.  They  were  large,  and  rosy, 
and  mellow,  and  sweet.  The  children  liked  the  apples  from 
that  tree  very  much,  and  Ernest  and  Anna  went  that  day 
in  hopes  that  their  uncle  would  give  them  some  of  them. 
He  said  he  would.  He  would  give  them  three  apiece.  He 
told  them  to  go  into  the  garden  and  wait  there  until  he 
came.  They  must  not  take  any  apples  off  the  tree,  he  said, 
but  if  they  found  any  under  the  tree  they  might  take  them, 
provided  that  there  were  not  more  than  three  apiece  ;  and 
when  he  came  he  would  take  enough  off  the  tree,  he  said, 
to  make  up  the  number  to  three. 

"  So  the  children  went  into  the  garden  and  looked  un 
der  the  tree.  They  found  two  apples  there,  and  they  took 
them  up  and  ate  them — one  apiece.  Then  they  sat  down 
and  began  to  wait  for  their  uncle  to  come.  While  they 
were  waiting  Anna  proposed  that  they  should  not  tell  their 
uncle  that  they  had  found  the  two  apples,  and  so  he  would 
give  them  three  more,  which  he  would  take  from  the  tree ; 
whereas,  if  he  knew  that  they  had  already  had  one  apiece, 
then  he  would  only  give  them  two  more.  Ernest  said  that 
his  uncle  would  ask  them  about  it.  Anna  said,  *  No  mat 
ter,  we  can  tell  him  that  we  did  not  find  any.' 


24  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

"Ernest  seemed  to  be  thinking  about  it  for  a  moment, 
and  then,  shaking  his  head,  said, l  No,  I  think  we  had  better 
not  tell  him  a  lie  !' 

"  So  when  he  saw  their  uncle  commg  he  said,  '  Come, 
Anna,  let  us  go  and  tell  him  about  it,  just  how  it  was.  So 
they  ran  together  to  meet  their  uncle,  and  told  him  that 
they  had  found  two  apples  under  the  tree,  one  apiece,  and 
had  eaten  them.  Then  he  gave  them  two  more  apiece,  ac 
cording  to  his  promise,  and  they  went  home  feeling  con 
tented  and  happy. 

"  They  might  have  had  one  more  apple  apiece,  probably, 
by  combining  together  to  tell  a  falsehood ;  but  in  that  case 
they  would  have  gone  home  feeling  guilty  and  unhappy." 

The  Effect. 

Louisa's  mother  paused  a  moment,  after  finishing  her 
story,  to  give  Louisa  time  to  think  about  it  a  little. 

"I  think,"  she  added  at  length,  after  a  suitable  pause, 
"  that  it  was  a  great  deal  better  for  them  to  tell  tho  truth, 
as  they  did." 

"  I  think  so  too,  mamma,"  said  Louisa,  at  the  same  time 
casting  down  her  eyes  and  looking  a  little  confused. 

"  But  you  know,"  added  her  mother,  speaking  in  a  very 
kind  and  gentle  tone, "  that  you  did  not  tell  me  the  truth 
to-day  about  the  apple  that  Bridget  gave  you." 

Louisa  paused  a  moment,  looked  in  her  mother's  face, 
and  then,  reaching  up  to  put  her  arms  around  her  mother's 
neck,  she  said, 

"  Mamma,  I  am  determined  never  to  tell  you  another 
wrong  story  as  long  as  I  live." 

Only  a  Single  Lesson,  after  all. 

N"ow  it  is  not  at  all  probable  that  if  the  case  had  ended 
here,  Louisa  would  have  kept  her  promise.  This  was  one 


WHAT  ARE  GENTLE  MEASURES  25 

good  lesson,  it  is  true,  but  it  was  only  one.  And  the  lesson 
was  given  by  a  method  so  gentle,  that  no  nervous,  cerebral, 
or  mental  function  was  in  any  degree  irritated  or  morbidly 
excited  by  it.  Moreover,  no  one  who  knows  any  thing  of 
the  workings  of  the  infantile  mind  can  doubt  that  the  im 
pulse  in  the  right  direction  given  by  this  conversation  was 
not  only  better  in  character,  but  was  greater  in  amount, 
than  could  have  been  effected  by  either  of  the  other  meth 
ods  of  management  previously  described. 

How  Gentle  Measures  operate. 

By  the  gentle  measures,  then,  which  are  to  be  here  dis 
cussed  and  recommended,  are  meant  such  as  do  not  react 
in  a  violent  and  irritating  manner,  in  any  way,  upon  the 
extremely  delicate,  and  almost  embryonic  condition  of  the 
cerebral  and  nervous  organization,  in  which  the  gradual  de 
velopment  of  the  mental  and  moral  faculties  are  so  inti 
mately  involved.  They  do  not  imply  any,  the  least,  relaxa 
tion  of  the  force  of  parental  authority,  or  any  lowering 
whatever  of  the  standards  of  moral  obligation,  but  are,  on 
the  contrary,  the  most  effectual,  the  surest  and  the  safest 
way  of  establishing  the  one  and  of  enforcing  the  other. 

B 


GENTLE  MEASURES. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THERE  MUST  BE  AUTHORITY. 

THE  first  duty  which  devolves  upon  the  mother  in  the 
training  of  her  child  is  the  establishment  of  her  authority 
over  him — that  is,  the  forming  in  him  the  habit  of  immedi 
ate,  implicit,  and  unquestioning  obedience  to  all  her  com 
mands.  And  the  first  step  to  be  taken,  or,  rather,  perhaps 
the  first  essential  condition  required  for  the  performance  of 
this  duty,  is  the  fixing  of  the  conviction  in  her  own  mind 
that  it  is  a  duty. 

Unfortunately,  however,  there  are  not  only  vast  numbers 
of  mothers  who  do  not  in  any  degree  perform  this  duty,  but 
a  large  proportion  of  them  have  not  even  a  theoretical  idea 
of  the  obligation  of  it. 

An  Objection. 

"  I  wish  my  child  to  be  governed  by  reason  and  reflec 
tion,"  says  one.  "  I  wish  him  to  see  the  necessity  and  pro 
priety  of  what  I  require  of  him,  so  that  he  may  render  a 
ready  and  willing  compliance  with  my  wishes,  instead  of 
being  obliged  blindly  to  submit  to  arbitrary  and  despotic 
power." 

She  forgets  that  the  faculties  of  reason  and  reflection, 
and  the  power  of  appreciating  "  the  necessity  and  propriety 
of  things,"  and  of  bringing  considerations  of  future,  remote, 
and  perhaps  contingent  good  and  evil  to  restrain  and  sub 
due  the  impetuousness  of  appetites  and  passions  eager  for 
present  pleasure,  are  qualities  that  appear  late,  and  are  very 
slowly  developed,  in  the  infantile  mind ;  that  no  real  reli- 


THERE  MUST  BE  AUTHORITY.  21 

ance  whatever  can  be  placed  upon  them  in  the  early  years 
of  life ;  and  that,  moreover,  one  of  the  chief  and  expressly 
intended  objects  of  the  establishment  of  the  parental  rela 
tion  is  to  provide,  in  the  mature  reason  and  reflection  of  the 
father  and  mother,  the  means  of  guidance  which  the  em 
bryo  reason  and  reflection  of  the  child  could  not  afford 
during  the  period  of  his  immaturity. 

TJie  two  great  Elements  of  Parental  Obligation. 
Indeed,  the  chief  end  and  aim  of  the  parental  relation,  as 
designed  by  the  Author  of  nature,  may  be  considered  as 
comprised,  it  would  seem,  in  these  two  objects,  namely: 
first,  the  support  of  the  child  by  the  strength  of  his  parents 
during  the  period  necessary  for  the  development  of  his 
strength,  and,  secondly,  his  guidance  and  direction  by  their 
reason  daring  the  development  of  his  reason.  The  second 
of  these  obligations  is  no  less  imperious  than  the  first.  To 
expect  him  to  provide  the  means  of  his  support  from  the 
resources  of  his  own  embryo  strength,  would  imply  no 
greater  misapprehension  on  the  part  of  his  father  and 
mother  than  to  look  for  the  exercise  of  any  really  control 
ling  influence  over  his  conduct  by  his  embryo  reason.  The 
expectation  in  the  two  cases  would  be  equally  vain.  The 
only  difference  would  be  that,  in  the  failure  which  would 
inevitably  result  from  the  trial,  it  would  be  in  the  one  case 
the  body  that  would  suffer,  and  in  the  other  the  soul. 

The  Judgment  more  slowly  developed  than  the  Strength. 

Indeed,  the  necessity  that  the  conduct  of  the  child  should 
be  controlled  by  the  reason  of  the  parents  is  in  one  point 
of  view  greater,  or  at  least  more  protracted,  than  that  his 
wants  should  be  supplied  by  their  power ;  for  the  develop 
ment  of  the  thinking  and  reasoning  powers  is  late  and  slow 
in  comparison  with  the  advancement  toward  maturity  of 


28  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

the  physical  powers.  It  is  considered  that  a  boy  attains,  in 
this  country,  to  a  sufficient  degree  of  strength  at  the  age 
of  from  seven  to  ten  years  to  earn  his  living ;  but  his  rea 
son  is  not  sufficiently  mature  to  make  it  safe  to  intrust  him 
with  the  care  of  himself  and  of  his  affairs,  in  the  judgment 
of  the  law,  till  he  is  of  more  than  twice  that  age.  The  par 
ents  can  actually  thus  sooner  look  to  the  strength  of  the 
child  for  his  support  than  they  can  to  his  reason  for  his 
guidance. 

What  Parents  have  to  do  in  Respect  to  the  Reasoning 
Powers  of  Children. 

To  aid  in  the  development  and  cultivation  of  the  think 
ing  and  reasoning  powers  is  doubtless  a  very  important 
part  of  a  parent's  duty.  But  to  cultivate  these  faculties  is 
one  thing,  while  to  make  any  control  which  may  be  pro 
cured  for  them  over  the  mind  of  the  child  the  basis  of  gov 
ernment,  is  another.  To  explain  the  reasons  of  our  com 
mands  is  excellent,  if  it  is  done  in  the  right  time  and  man 
ner.  The  wrong  time  is  when  the  question  of  obedience  is 
pending,  and  the  wrong  manner  is  when  they  are  offered  as 
inducements  to  obey.  We  may  offer  reasons  for  recom 
mendations,  when  we  leave  the  child  to  judge  of  their 
force,  and  to  act  according  to  our  recommendations  or  not, 
as  his  judgment  shall  dictate.  But  reasons  should  never 
be  given  as  inducements  to  obey  a  command.  The  more 
completely  the  obedience  to  a  command  rests  on  the  prin 
ciple  of  simple  submission  to  authority,  the  easier  and  bet 
ter  it  will  be  both  for  parent  and  child. 

Manner  of  exercising  Authority. 

Let  no  reader  fall  into  the  error  of  supposing  that  the 
mother's  making  her  authority  the  basis  of  her  government 
renders  it  necessary  for  her  to  assume  a  stern  and  severe 


THERE  MUST  BE  AUTHORITY.  29 

aspect  towards  her  children,  in  her  intercourse  with  them; 
or  to  issue  her  commands  in  a  harsh,  abrupt,  and  imperious 
manner ;  or  always  to  refrain  from  explaining,  at  the  time, 
the  reasons  for  a  command  or  a  prohibition.  The  more 
gentle  the  manner,  and  the  more  kind  and  courteous  the 
tones  in  which  the  mother's  wishes  are  expressed,  the  bet 
ter,  provided  only  that  the  wishes,  however  expressed,  are 
really  the  mandates  of  an  authority  which  is  to  be  yielded 
to  at  once  without  question  or  delay.  She  may  say,  "Mary, 
will  you  please  to  leave  your  doll  and  take  this  letter  for 
me  into  the  library  to  your  father  ?"  or,  "  Johnny,  in  five 
minutes  it  will  be  time  for  you  to  put  your  blocks  away  to 
go  to  bed ;  I  will  tell  you  when  the  time  is  out ;"  or,  "  James, 
look  at  the  clock  " — to  call  his  attention  to  the  fact  that  the 
time  is  arrived  for  him  to  go  to  school.  No  matter,  in  a 
word,  under  how  mild  and  gentle  a  form  the  mother's  com 
mands  are  given,  provided  only  that  the  children  are  trained 
to  understand  that  they  are  at  once  to  be  obeyed. 

A  second  Objection. 

Another  large  class  of  mothers  are  deterred  from  making 
any  efficient  effort  to  establish  their  authority  over  their 
children  for  fear  of  thereby  alienating  their  affections.  "  I 
wish  my  child  to  love  me,"  says  a  mother  of  this  class. 
"  That  is  the  supreme  and  never-ceasing  wish  of  my  heart ; 
and  if  I  am  continually  thwarting  and  constraining  her  by 
my  authority,  she  will  soon  learn  to  consider  me  an  obstacle 
to  her  happiness,  and  I  shall  become  an  object  of  her  aver 
sion  and  dislike." 

There  is  some  truth,  no  doubt,  in  this  statement  thus  ex 
pressed,  but  it  is  not  applicable  to  the  case,  for  the  reason 
that  there  is  no  need  whatever  for  a  mother's  "  continually 
thwarting  and  constraining"  her  children  in  her  efforts  to 
establish  her  authority  over  them.  The  love  which  they 


30  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

will  feel  for  her  will  depend  in  a  great  measure  upon  the 
degree  in  which  she  sympathizes  and  takes  part  with  them 
in  their  occupations,  their  enjoyments,  their  disappoint 
ments,  and  their  sorrows,  and  in  which  she  indulges  their 
child-like  desires.  The  love,  however,  awakened  by  these 
means  will  be  not  weakened  nor  endangered,  but  immense 
ly  strengthened  and  confirmed,  by  the  exercise  on  her  part 
of  a  just  and  equable,  but  firm  and  absolute,  authority. 
This  must  always  be  true  so  long  as  a  feeling  of  respect 
for  the  object  of  affection  tends  to  strengthen,  and  not  to 
weaken,  the  sentiment  of  love.  The  mother  who  does  not 
govern  her  children  is  bringing  them  up  not  to  love  her, 
but  to  despise  her. 

Effect  of  Authority. 

If,  besides  being  their  playmate,  their  companion,  and 
friend,  indulgent  in  respect  to  all  their  harmless  fancies, 
and  patient  and  forbearing  with  their  childish  faults  and 
foolishness,  she  also  exercises  in  cases  requiring  it  an  au 
thority  over  them  which,  though  just  and  gentle,  is  yet  ab 
solute  and  supreme,  she  rises  to  a  very  exalted  position  in 
their  view.  Their  affection  for  her  has  infused  into  it  an 
element  which  greatly  aggrandizes  and  ennobles  it — an  ele 
ment  somewhat  analogous  to  that  sentiment  of  lofty  devo 
tion  which  a  loyal  subject  feels  for  his  queen. 

Effect  of  the  Want  of  Authority. 

On  the  her  hand,  if  she  is  inconsiderate  enough  to  at 
tempt  to  win  a  place  in  her  children's  hearts  by  the  sacrifice 
of  her  maternal  authority,  she  will  never  succeed  in  securing 
a  place  there  that  is  worth  possessing.  The  children  will 
all,  girls  and  boys  alike,  see  and  understand  her  weakness, 
and  they  will  soon  learn  to  look  down  upon  her,  instead  of 
looking  up  to  her,  as  they  ought.  As  they  grow  older  they 


THERE  MUST  BE  AUTHORITY.  31 

will  all  become  more  and  more  unmanageable.  The  insub 
ordination  of  the  girls  must  generally  be  endured,  but  that 
of  the  boys  will  in  time  grow  to  be  intolerable,  and  it  will 
become  necessary  to  send  them  away  to  school,  or  to  adopt 
some  other  plan  for  ridding  the  house  of  their  turbulence, 
and  relieving  the  poor  mother's  heart  of  the  insupportable 
burden  she  has  to  bear  in  finding  herself  contemned  and 
trampled  upon  by  her  own  children.  In  the  earlier  years 
of  life  the  feeling  entertained  for  their  mother  in  such  a 
case  by  the  children  is  simply  that  of  contempt;  for  the 
sentiment  of  gratitude  which  will  modify  it  in  time  is  very 
late  to  be  developed,  and  has  not  yet  begun  to  act.  In  later 
years,  however,  when  the  boys  have  become  young  men, 
this  sentiment  of  gratitude  begins  to  come  in,  but  it  only 
changes  the  contempt  into  pity.  And  when  years  have 
passed  away,  and  the  mother  is  perhaps  in  her  grave,  her 
sons  think  of  her  with  a  mingled  feeling  excited  by  the 
conjoined  remembrance  of  her  helpless  imbecility  and  of 
her  true  maternal  love,  and  say  to  each  other,  with  a  smile, 
"  Poor  dear  mother !  what  a  time  she  had  of  it  trying  to 
govern  us  boys  !" 

If  a  mother  is  willing  to  have  her  children  thus  regard 
her  with  contempt  pure  and  simple  while  they  are  children, 
and  with  contempt  transformed  into  pity  by  the  infusion 
of  a  tardy  sentiment  of  gratitude,  when  they  are  grown,  she 
may  try  the  plan  of  endeavoring  to  secure  their  love  by  in 
dulging  them  without  governing  them.  But  if  she  sets 
her  heart  on  being  the  object  through  life  of  their  respect 
ful  love,  she  may  indulge  them  as  much  as  she  pleases ;  but 
she  must  govern  them. 

Indulgence. 

A  great  deal  is  said  sometimes  about  the  evils  of  indul 
gence  in  the  management  of  children;  and  so  far  as  the 


32  GENTLE  MEASVlil-X. 

condemnation  refers  only  to  indulgence  in  what  is  injurious 
or  evil,  it  is  doubtless  very  just.  But  the  harm  is  not  in 
the  indulgence  itself — that  is,  in  the  act  of  affording  gratifi 
cation  to  the  child — but  in  the  injurious  or  dangerous  na 
ture  of  the  things  indulged  in.  It  seems  to  me  that  children 
are  not  generally  indulged  enough.  They  are  thwarted  and 
restrained  in  respect  to  the  gratification  of  their  harmless 
wishes  a  great  deal  too  much.  Indeed,  as  a  general  rule, 
the  more  that  children  are  gratified  in  respect  to  their  child 
ish  fancies  and  impulses,  and  even  their  caprices,  when  no 
evil  or  danger  is  to  be  apprehended,  the  better. 

When,  therefore,  a  child  asks,  "May  I  do  this?"  or,  "May 
I  do  that?"  the  question  for  the  mother  to  consider  is  not 
whether  the  thing  proposed  is  a  wise  or  a  foolish  thing  to 
do — that  is,  whether  it  would  be  wise  or  foolish  for  her,  if 
she,  with  her  ideas  and  feelings,  were  in  the  place  of  the 
child — but  only  whether  there  is  any  harm  or  danger  in  it; 
and  if  not,  she  should  give  her  ready  and  cordial  consent. 

Antagonism  between  Free  Indulgence  and  Absolute 

Control. 

There  is  no  necessary  antagonism,  nor  even  any  incon 
sistency,  between  the  freest  indulgence  of  children  and  the 
maintenance  of  the  most  absolute  authority  over  them.  In 
deed,  the  authority  can  be  most  easily  established  in  con 
nection  with  great  liberality  of  indulgence.  At  any  rate, 
it  will  be  very  evident,  on  reflection,  that  the  two  principles 
do  not  stand  at  all  in  opposition  to  each  other,  as  is  often 
vaguely  supposed.  Children  may  be  greatly  indulged,  and 
yet  perfectly  governed.  .  On  the  other  hand,  they  may  be 
continually  checked  and  thwarted,  and  their  lives  made  mis 
erable  by  a  continued  succession  of  vexations,  restrictions, 
and  refusals,  and  yet  not  be  governed  at  all.  An  example 
will,  however,  best  illustrate  this. 


THERE  MUST  BE  AUTHORITY.  33 

Mode  of  Management  icith  Louisa. 

A  mother,  going  to  the  village  by  a  path  across  the  fields, 
proposed  to  her  little  daughter  Louisa  to  go  with  her  for 
a  walk. 

Louisa  asked  if  she  might  invite  her  Cousin  Mary  to  go 
too.  "  Yes,"  said  her  mother ;  "  I  think  she  is  not  at  home  ; 
but  you  can  go  and  see,  if  you  like." 

Louisa  went  to  see,  and  returned  in  a  few  minutes,  say 
ing  that  Mary  was  not  at  home. 

"  Never  mind,"  replied  her  mother ;  "  it  was  polite  in  you 
to  wish  to  invite  her." 

They  set  out  upon  the  walk.  Louisa  runs  hither  and 
thither  over  the  grass,  returning  continually  to  her  mother 
to  bring  her  flowers  and  curiosities.  Her  mother  looks  at 
them  all,  seems  to  approve  of,  and  to  sympathize  in,  Louisa's 
wonder  and  delight,  and  even  points  out  new  charms  in  the 
objects  which  she  brings  to  her,  that  Louisa  had  not  ob 
served. 

At  length  Louisa  spied  a  butterfly. 

"  Mother,"  said  she,  "  here's  a  butterfly.  May  I  run  and 
catch  him  ?" 

"  You  may  try,"  said  her  mother. 

Louisa  ran  till  she  was  tired,  and  then  came  back  to  her 
mother,  looking  a  little  disappointed. 

"  I  could  not  catch  him,  mother." 

"  Never  mind,"  said  her  mother,  "  you  had  a  good  time 
trying,  at  any  rate.  Perhaps  you  will  see  another  by-and- 
by.  You  may  possibly  see  a  bird,  and  you  can  try  and  see 
if  you  can  catch  Aim." 

So  Louisa  ran  off  to  play  again,  satisfied  and  happy. 

A  little  farther  on  a  pretty  tree  was  growing,  not  far 
from  the  path  on  one  side.  A  short,  half -decayed  log 
lay  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  overtopped  and  nearly  con- 

B2 


Si  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

cealcd  by  a  growth  of  raspberry-bushes,  grass,  and  wild 
flowers. 

"  Louisa,"  said  the  mother,  "  do  you  see  that  tree  with 
the  pretty  flowers  at  the  foot  of  it  ?" 

"Yes,  mother." 

"  I  would  rather  not  have  you  go  near  that  tree.  Come 
over  to  this  side  of  the  path,  and  keep  on  this  side  till  you 
get  by." 

Louisa  began  immediately  to  obey,  but  as  she  was  cross 
ing  the  path  she  looked  up  to  her  mother  and  asked  why 
she  must  not  go  near  the  tree. 

"I  am  glad  you  would  like  to  know  why,"  replied  her 
mother, "  and  I  will  tell  you  the  reason  as  soon  as  we  get 
past." 

Louisa  kept  on  the  other  side  of  the  path  until  the  tree 
was  left  well  behind,  and  then  came  back  to  her  mother  to 
ask  for  the  promised  reason. 

"  It  was  because  I  heard  that  there  was  a  wasp's  nest 
under  that  tree,"  said  her  mother. 

"A  wasp's  nest !"  repeated  Louisa,  with  a  look  of  alarm. 

"  Yes,"  rejoined  her  mother,  "  and  I  was  afraid  that  the 
wasps  might  sting  you." 

Louisa  paused  a  moment,  and  then,  looking  back  towards 
the  tree,  said, 

"  I  am  glad  I  did  not  go  near  it" 

"And  I  am  glad  that  you  obeyed  me  so  readily,"  said 
her  mother.  "  I  knew  you  would  obey  me  at  once,  with 
out  my  giving  any  reason.  I  did  not  wish  to  tell  you  the 
reason,  for  fear  of  frightening  you  while  you  were  passing 
by  the  tree.  But  I  knew  that  you  would  obey  me  without 
any  reason.  You  always  do,  and  that  is  why  I  always  like 
to  have  you  go  with  me  when  I  take  a  walk." 

Louisa  is  much  gratified  by  this  commendation,  and  the 
effect  of  it,  and  of  the  whole  incident,  in  confirming  and 


THERE  MUST  BE  AUTHORITY.  37 

strengthening  the  principle  of  obedience  in  her  heart,  is 
very  much  greater  than  rebukes  or  punishments  for  any 
overt  act  of  disobedience  could  possibly  be. 

"  But,  mother,"  asked  Louisa,  "  how  did  you  know  that 
there  was  a  wasp's  nest  under  that  tree  ?" 

"  One  of  the  boys  told  me  so,"  replied  her  mother. 

"And  do  you  really  think  there  is  one  there?"  asked 
Louisa. 

"  No,"  replied  her  mother,  "  I  do  not  really  think  there 
is.  Boys  are  very  apt  to  imagine  such  things.''' 

"  Then  why  would  you  not  let  me  go  there  ?"  asked 
Louisa. 

"  Because  there  might  be  one  there,  and  so  1  thought  it 
safer  foi  you  not  to  go  near." 

Louisa  now  left  her  mother's  side  and  resumed  her  ex 
cursions,  running  this  way  and  that,  in  every  direction,  over 
the  fields,  until  at  length,  her  strength  beginning  to  fail,  she 
came  back  to  her  mother,  out  of  breath,  and  with  a  languid 
air,  saying  that  she  was  too  tired  to  go  any  farther. 

"  I  am  tired,  too,"  said  her  mother ;  "  we  had  better  find 
a  place  to  sit  down  to  rest." 

"  Where  shall  we  find  one  ?"  asked  Louisa. 

"I  see  a  large  stone  out  there  before  us  a  little  way," 
said  her  mother.  "  How  will  that  do  ?" 

"I  mean  to  go  and  try  it,"  said  Louisa;  and,  having 
seemingly  recovered  her  breath,  she  ran  forward  to  try  the 
stone.  By  the  time  that  her  mother  reached  the  spot  she 
was  ready  to  go  on. 

These  and  similar  incidents  marked  the  whole  progress 
of  the  walk. 

We  see  that  in  such  a  case  as  this  firm  government  and 
free  indulgence  are  conjoined;  and  that,  far  from  there 
being  any  antagonism  between  them,  they  may  work  to 
gether  in  perfect  harmony. 


38  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

Mode  of  Management  with  Hannah. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  may  be  an  extreme  limitation 
in  respect  to  a  mother's  indulgence  of  her  children,  while 
yet  she  has  no  government  over  them  at  all.  We  shall  see 
how  this  might  be  by  the  case  of  little  Hannah. 

Hannah  was  asked  by  her  mother  to  go  with  her  across 
'the  fields  to  the  village  under  circumstances  similar  to  those 
of  Louisa's  invitation,  except  that  the  real  motive  of  Han 
nah's  mother,  in  proposing  that  Hannah  should  accompany 
her,  was  to  have  the  child's  help  in  bringing  home  her  par 
cels. 

"  Yes,  mother,"  said  Hannah,  in  reply  to  her  mother's  in 
vitation,  "  I  should  like  to  go ;  and  I  will  go  and  ask  Cousin 
Sarah  to  go  too." 

"Oh  no,"  rejoined  her  mother,  "why  do  you  wish  Sarah 
to  go  ?  She  will  only  be  a  trouble  to  us." 

"  She  won't  be  any  trouble  at  all,  mother,  and  I  mean  to 
go  and  ask  her,"  said  Hannah ;  and,  putting  on  her  bonnet, 
she  set  off  towards  the  gate. 

"  No,  Hannah,"  insisted  her  mother,  "  you  must  not  go. 
I  don't  wish  to  have  Sarah  go  writh  us  to-day." 

Hannah  paid  no  attention  to  this  prohibition,  but  ran  off 
to  find  Sarah.  After  a  few  minutes  she  returned,  saying 
that  Sarah  was  not  at  home. 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  said  her  mother ;  "  I  told  you  not  to 
go  to  ask  her,  and  you  did  very  wrong  to  disobey  me.  I 
have  a  great  mind  not  to  let  you  go  yourself." 

Hannah  ran  off  in  the  direction  of  the  path,  not  caring 
for  the  censure  or  for  the  threat,  knowing  well  that  they 
would  result  in  nothing. 

Her  mother  followed.  "When  they  reached  the  pastures 
Hannah  began  running  here  and  there  over  the  grass. 

"  Hannah  !"  said  her  mother,  speaking  in  a  stern  and  re- 


THERE  MUST  BE  AUTHORITY.  S9 

proachf ul  tone ;  "  what  do  you  keep  running  about  so  for 
all  the  time,  Hannah  ?  You'll  get  tired  out  before  we  get 
to  the  village,  and  then  you'll  be  teasing  me  to  let  you  stop 
and  rest.  Come  and  walk  along  quietly  with  me." 

But  Hannah  paid  no  attention,  whatever  to  this  injunc 
tion.  She  ran  to  and  fro  among  the  rocks  and  clumps  of 
bushes,  and  once  or  twice  she  brought  to  her  mother  flowers 
or  other  curious  things  that  she  found. 

"  Those  things  are  not  good  for  any  thing,  child,"  said 
her  mother.  "They  are  nothing  but  common  weeds  and 
trash.  Besides,  I  told  you  not  to  run  about  so  much. 
Why  can't  you  come  and  walk  quietly  along  the  path,  like 
a  sensible  person  ?" 

Hannah  paid  no  attention  to  this  reiteration  of  her  moth 
er's  command,  but  continued  to  run  about  as  before. 

"Hannah,"  repeated  her  mother,  "come  back  into  the 
path.  I  have  told  you  again  and  again  that  you  must 
come  and  walk  with  me,  and  you  don't  pay  the  least  heed 
to  what  I  say.  By-and-by  you  will  fall  into  some  hole,  or 
tear  your  clothes  against  the  bushes,  or  get  pricked  with 
the  briers.  You  must  not,  at  any  rate,  go  a  step  farther 
from  the  path  than  you  are  now." 

Hannah  walked  on,  looking  for  flowers  and  curiosities, 
and  receding  farther  and  farther  from  the  path,  for  a  time, 
and  then  returning  towards  it  again,  according  to  her  own 
fancy  or  caprice,  without  paying  any  regard  to  her  mother's 
directions. 

"Hannah,"  said  her  mother,  "you  must  not  go  so  far 
away  from  the  path.  Then,  besides,  you  are  coming  to  a 
tree  where  there  is  a  wasps'  nest.  You  must  not  go  near 
that  tree ;  if  you  do,  you  will  get  stung." 

Hannah  went  on,  looking  for  flowers,  and  gradually  draw 
ing  nearer  to  the  tree. 

"  Hannah  1"  exclaimed  her  mother,  "  I  tell  you  that  you 


40  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

must  not  go  near  that  tree.  You  will  certainly  get 
stung." 

Hannah  went  on — somewhat  hesitatingly  and  cautiously, 
it  is  true — towards  the  foot  of  the  tree,  and,  seeing  no  signs 
of  wasps  there,  she  began  gathering  the  flowers  that  grew 
at  the  foot  of  it. 

"  Hannah  !  Hannah  !"  exclaimed  her  mother ;  "  I  told  you 
not  to  go  near  that  tree !  Get  your  flowers  quick,  if  you 
must  get  them,  and  come  away." 

Hannah  went  on  gathering  the  flowers  at  her  leisure. 

"  You  will  certainly  get  stung,"  said  her  mother. 

"  I  don't  believe  there  is  any  hornets'  nest  here,"  replied 
Hannah. 

"  Wasps'  nest,"  said  her  mother ;  "  it  was  a  wasps'  nest." 

"  Or  wasps'  nest  either,"  said  Hannah. 

"  Yes,"  rejoined  her  mother,  "  the  boys  said  there  was." 

"  That's  nothing,"  said  Hannah ;  "  the  boys  think  there 
are  wasps'  nests  in  a  great  many  places  where  there  are  not 
any." 

After  a  time  Hannah,  having  gathered  all  the  flowers  she 
wished  for,  came  back  at  her  leisure  towards  her  mother. 

"  I  told  you  not  to  go  to  that  tree,"  said  her  mother,  re 
proachfully. 

"You  told  me  I  should  certainly  get  stung  if  I  went 
there,"  rejoined  Hannah,  "  and  I  didn't." 

"  Well,  you  might  have  got  stung,"  said  her  mother,  and 
so  walked  on. 

Pretty  soon  after  this  Hannah  said  that  she  was  tired  of 
walking  so  far,  and  wished  to  stop  and  rest. 

"  No,"  replied  her  mother,  "  I  told  you  that  you  would 
get  tired  if  you  ran  about  so  much ;  but  you  would  do  it, 
and  so  now  I  shall  not  stop  for  you  at  all." 

Hannah  said  that  she  should  stop,  at  any  rate ;  so  she  sat 
down  upon  a  log  by  the  way-side.  Her  mother  said  that 


THERE  MUST  BE  AUTHORITY.  41 

she  should  go  on  and  leave  her.  So  her  mother  walked  on, 
looking  back  now  and  then,  and  calling  Hannah  to  come. 
But  finding  that  Hannah  did  not  come,  she  finally  found  a 
place  to  sit  down  herself  and  wait  for  her. 

The  Principle,  illustrated  by  this  Case. 

Many  a  mother  will  see  the  image  of  her  own  manage 
ment  of  her  children  reflected  without  exaggeration  or  dis> 
tortion  in  this  glass;  and,  as  the  former  story  shows  how 
the  freest  indulgence  is  compatible  with  the  maintenance 
of  the  most  absolute  authority,  this  enables  us  to  see  how  a 
perpetual  resistance  to  the  impulses  and  desires  of  children 
may  co-exist  with  no  government  over  them  at  all. 

Let  no  mother  fear,  then,  that  the  measures  necessary  to 
establish  for  her  the  most  absolute  authority  over  her  chil 
dren  will  at  all  curtail  her  power  to  promote  their  happi 
ness.  The  maintenance  of  the  best  possible  government 
over  them  will  not  in  any  way  prevent  her  yielding  to  them 
all  the  harmless  gratifications  they  may  desire.  She  may 
indulge  them  in  all  their  childish  impulses,  fancies,  and  even 
caprices,  to  their  heart's  content,  without  at  all  weakening 
her  authority  over  them.  Indeed,  she  may  make  these  very 
indulgences  the  means  of  strengthening  her  authority.  But 
without  the  authority  she  can  never  develop  in  the  hearts 
of  her  children  the  only  kind  of  love  that  is  worth  possess 
ing — namely,  that  in  which  the  feeling  of  affection  is  digni 
fied  and  ennobled  by  the  sentiment  of  respect. 

One  more  Consideration. 

There  is  one  consideration  which,  if  properly  appreciated, 
would  have  an  overpowering  influence  on  the  mind  of  ev 
ery  mother  in  inducing  her  to  establish  and  maintain  a  firm 
authority  over  her  child  during  the  early  years  of  his  life, 
and  that  is  the  possibility  that  he  may  not  live  to  reach 


43  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

maturity.  Should  the  terrible  calamity  befall  her  of  being 
compelled  to  follow  her  boy,  yet  young,  to  his  grave,  the 
character  of  her  grief,  and  the  degree  of  distress  and  an 
guish  which  it  will  occasion  her,  will  depend  very  much 
upon  the  memories  which  his  life  and  his  relations  to  her 
have  left  in  her  soul.  When  she  returns  to  her  home, 
bowed  down  by  the  terrible  burden  of  her  bereavement, 
and  wanders  over  the  now  desolated  rooms  which  wrere 
the  scenes  of  his  infantile  occupations  and  joys,  and  sees 
the  now  useless  playthings  and  books,  and  the  various  ob 
jects  of  curiosity  and  interest  with  which  he  was  so  often 
and  so  busily  engaged,  there  can,  of  course,  be  nothing 
which  can  really  assuage  her  overwhelming  grief;  but  it 
will  make  a  vital  difference  in  the  character  of  this  grief, 
whether  the  image  of  her  boy,  as  it  takes  its  fixed  and 
final  position  in  her  memory  and  in  her  heart,  is  associated 
with  recollections  of  docility,  respectful  regard  for  his  moth 
er's  wishes,  and  of  ready  and  unquestioning  submission  to 
her  authority  and  obedience  to  her  commands ;  or  whether, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  picture  of  his  past  life,  which  is  to 
remain  forever  in  her  heart,  is  to  be  distorted  and  marred 
by  memories  of  outbreaks,  acts  of  ungovernable  impulse 
and  insubordination,  habitual  disregard  of  all  authority,  and 
disrespectful,  if  not  contemptuous,  treatment  of  his  mother. 
There  is  a  sweetness  as  well  as  a  bitterness  of  grief;  and 
something  like  a  feeling  of  joy  and  gladness  will  spring  up 
in  the  mother's  heart,  and  mingle  with  and  soothe  her  sor 
row,  if  she  can  think  of  her  boy,  when  he  is  gone,  as  al 
ways  docile,  tractable,  submissive  to  her  authority,  and  obe 
dient  to  her  commands.  Such  recollections,  it  is  true,  can 
not  avail  to  remove  her  grief — perhaps  not  even  to  dimin 
ish  its  intensity;  but  they  will  greatly  assuage  the  bitter 
ness  of  it,  and  wholly  take  away  its  sting. 


GENTLE  PUNISHMENT  OF  DISOBEDIENCE.  43 


CHAPTER  IV. 

GENTLE  PUNISHMENT  OF  DISOBEDIENCE. 

CHILDREN  have  no  natural  instinct  of  obedience  to  their 
parents,  though  they  have  other  instincts  by  means  of 
which  the  habit  of  obedience,  as  an  acquisition,  can  easily 
be  formed. 

The  true  state  of  the  case  is  well  illustrated  by  what  we 
observe  among  the  lower  animals.  The  hen  can  call  her 
chickens  when  she  has  food  for  them,  or  when  any  danger 
threatens,  and  they  come  to  her.  They  come,  however, 
simply  under  the  impulse  of  a  desire  for  food  or  fear  of 
danger,  not  from  any  instinctive  desire  to  conform  their 
action  to  their  mother's  will ;  or,  in  other  words,  with  no 
idea  of  submission  to  parental  authority.  It  is  so,  substan 
tially,  with  many  other  animals  whose  habits  in  respect  to 
the  relation  between  parents  and  offspring  come  under  hu 
man  observation.  The  colt  and  the  calf  follow  and  keep 
near  the  mother,  not  from  any  instinct  of  desire  to  con 
form  their  conduct  to  her  will,  but  solely  from  love  of 
food,  or  fear  of  danger.  These  last  are  strictly  instinctive. 
They  act  spontaneously,  and  require  no  training  of  any 
sort  to  establish  or  to  maintain  them. 

The  case  is  substantially  the  same  with  children.  They 
run  to  their  mother  by  instinct,  when  want,  fear,  or  pain 
impels  them.  They  require  no  teaching  or  training  for 
this.  But  for  them  to  come  simply  because  their  mother 
wishes  them  to  come — to  be  controlled,  in  other  words,  by 
her  will,  instead  of  by  their  own  impulses,  is  a  different 
thing  altogether.  They  have  no  instinct  for  that.  They 
have  only  a  capacity  for  its  development. 


44  GENTLE  MEASURE 

Instincts  and  Capacities. 

It  may,  perhaps,  be  maintained  that  there  is  no  real  dif 
ference  between  instincts  and  capacities,  and  it  certainly  is 
possible  that  they  may  pass  into  each  other  by  insensible 
gradations.  Still,  practically,  and  in  reference  to  our  treat 
ment  of  any  intelligent  nature  which  is  in  course  of  gradual 
development  under  our  influence,  the  difference  is  wide. 
The  dog  has  an  instinct  impelling  him  to  attach  himself  to 
and  follow  his  master;  but  he  has  no  instinct  leading  him 
to  draw  his  master's  cart.  He  requires  no  teaching  for 
the  one.  It  conies,  of  course,  from  the  connate  impulses  of 
his  nature.  For  the  other  he  requires  a  skillful  and  care 
ful  training.  If  we  find  a  dog  who  evinces  no  disposition 
to  seek  the  society  of  man,  but  roams  off  into  woods  and 
solitudes  alone,  he  is  useless,  and  we  attribute  the  fault  to 
his  own  wolfish  nature.  But  if  he  will  not  fetch  and  carry 
at  command,  or  bring  home  a  basket  in  his  mouth  from 
market,  the  fault,  if  there  be  any  fault,  is  in  his  master,  in 
not  having  taken  the  proper  time  and  pains  to  train  him, 
or  in  not  knowing  how  to  do  it.  He  has  an  instinct  lead 
ing  him  to  attach  himself  to  a  human  master,  and  to  follow 
his  master  wherever  he  goes.  But  he  has  no  instinct  lead 
ing  him  to  fetch  and  carry,  or  to  draw  carts  for  any  body. 
If  he  shows  no  affection  for  man,  it  is  his  own  fault — that  is, 
the  fault  of  his  nature.  But  if  he  does  not  fetch  and  carry 
well,  or  go  out  of  the  room  when  he  is  ordered  out,  or  draw 
steadily  in  a  cart,  it  is  his  teacher's  fault.  He  has  not  been 
properly  trained. 

Who  is  Responsible  f 

So  with  the  child.  If  he  does  not  seem  to  know  how  to 
take  his  food,  or  shows  nos  disposition  to  run  to  his  mother 
when  he  is  hurt  or  when  he  is  frightened,  we  have  reason 


GENTLE  PUNISHMENT  OF  DISOBEDIENCE.  45 

to  suspect  something  wrong,  or,  at  least,  something  abnor 
mal,  in  his  mental  or  physical  constitution.  But  if  he  does 
not  6bey  his  mother's  commands — no  matter  how  insubor 
dinate  or  unmanageable  he  may  be — the  fault  does  not,  cer 
tainly,  indicate  any  thing  at  all  wrong  in  him.  The  fault  is 
in  his  training,  In  witnessing  his  disobedience,  our  reflec 
tion  should  be,  not  "  What  a  bad  boy  !"  but  "  What  an  un 
faithful  or  incompetent  mother !" 

I  have  dwelt  the  longer  on  this  point  because  it  is  funda 
mental  As  long  as  a  mother  imagines,  as  so  many  mothers 
seem  to  do,  that  obedience  on  the  part  of  the  child  is,  or 
ought  to  be,  a  matter  of  course,  she  will  never  properly  un 
dertake  the  work  of  training  him.  But  when  she  thor 
oughly  understands  and  feels  that  her  children  are  not  to 
be  expected  to  submit  their  will  to  hers,  except  so  far  as 
she  forms  in  them  the  habit  of  doing  this  by  special  train 
ing^  the  battle  is  half  won. 

Actual  Instincts  of  Children. 

The  natural  instinct  which  impels  her  children  to  come  at 
once  to  her  for  refuge  and  protection  in  all  thsir  troubles 
and  fears,  is  a  great  source  of  happiness  to  every  mother. 
This  instinct  shows  itself  in  a  thousand  ways.  "  A  mother, 
one  morning" — I  quote  the  anecdote  from  a  newspaper* 
which  came  to  hand  while  I  was  writing  this  chapter — 
"gave  her  two  little  ones  books  and  toys  to  amuse  them, 
while  she  went  to  attend  to  some  work  in  an  upper  room. 
Half  an  hour  passed  quietly,  and  then  a  timid  voice  at  tbe 
foot  of  the  stairs  called  out : 

" t  Mamma,  are  you  there  ?' 

"<  Yes,  darling.' 

"  f  All  right,  then  !'  and  the  child  went  back  to  its  play- 

*  The  "Boston  Oongregationalist." 


46  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

"  By-and-by  the  little  voice  was  heard  again,  repeating, 

"  '  Mamma,  are  you  there  ?' 

"'Yes.' 

"'All  right,  then ;'  and  the  little  ones  returned  again, 
satisfied  and  reassured,  to  their  toys." 

The  sense  of  their  mother's  presence,  or  at  least  the  cer 
tainty  of  her  being  near  at  hand,  was  necessary  to  their  se 
curity  and  contentment  in  their  plays.  But  this  feeling 
was  not  the  result  of  any  teachings  that  they  had  re 
ceived  from  their  mother,  or  upon  her  having  inculcated 
upon  their  minds  in  any  way  the  necessity  of  their  keeping 
always  within  reach  of  maternal  protection ;  nor  had  it 
been  acquired  by  their  own  observation  or  experience  of 
dangers  or  difficulties  which  had  befallen  them  when  too 
far  away.  It  was  a  native  instinct  of  the  soul — the  same 
that  leads  the  lamb  and  the  calf  to  keep  close  to  their 
mother's  side,  and  causes  the  unweaned  babe  to  cling  to  its 
mother's  bosom,  and  to  shrink  from  being  put  away  into 
the  crib  or  cradle  alone. 

Tlie  Responsibility  rests  upon  the  Mother. 
The  mother  is  thus  to  understand  that  the  principle  of 
obedience  is  not  to  be  expected  to  come  by  nature  into  the 
heart  of  her  child,  but  to  be  implanted  by  education.  She 
must  understand  this  so  fully  as  to  feel  that  if  she  finds 
that  her  children  are  disobedient  to  her  commands — leav 
ing  out  of  view  cases  of  peculiar  and  extraordinary  tempta 
tion — it  is  her  fault,  not  theirs.  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to 
say  her  fault  exactly,  for  she  may  have  done  as  well  as  she 
knows  how ;  but,  at  any  rate,  her  failure.  Instead,  there 
fore,  of  being  angry  with  them,  or  fretting  and  complain 
ing  about  the  trouble  they  give  her,  she  should  leave  them, 
as  it  were,  out  of  the  case,  and  turn  her  thoughts  to  herself, 
and  to  her  own  management,  with  a  view  to  the  discovery 


GENTLE  PUNISHMENT  OF  DISOBEDIENCE.  47 

and  the  correcting  of  her  own  derelictions  and  errors.  In 
a  word,  she  must  set  regularly  and  systematically  about  the 
work  of  teaching  her  children  to  subject  their  will  to  hers. 

Tliree  Methods. 

I  shall  give  three  principles  of  management,  or  rather 
three  different  classes  of  measures,  by  means  of  which  chil 
dren  may  certainly  be  made  obedient.  The  most  perfect 
success  will  be  attained  by  employing  them  all.  But  they 
require  very  different  degrees  of  skill  and  tact  on  the  part 
of  the  mother.  The  first  requires  very  little  skill.  It  de 
mands  only  steadiness,  calmness,  and  perseverance.  The 
second  draws  much  more  upon  the  mother's  mental  resour 
ces,  and  the  last,  most  of  all.  Indeed,  as  will  presently  be 
seen,  there  is  no  limit  to  the  amount  of  tact  and  ingenuity, 
not  to  say  genius,  which  may  be  advantageously  exercised 
in  the  last  method.  The  first  is  the  most  essential;  and 
it  will  alone,  if  faithfully  carried  out,  accomplish  the  end. 
The  second,  if  the  mother  has  the  tact  and  skill  to  carry  it 
into  effect,  will  aid  very  much  in  accomplishing  the  result, 
and  in  a  manner  altogether  more  agreeable  to  both  parties. 
The  third  will  make  the  work  of  forming  the  habit  of  obe 
dience  on  the  part  of  the  mother,  and  of  acquiring  it  on 
the  part  of  the  child,  a  source  of  the  highest  enjoyment  to 
both.  But  then,  unfortunately,  it  requires  more  skill  and 
dexterity,  more  gentleness  of  touch,  so  to  speak,  and  a  more 
delicate  constitution  of  soul,  than  most  mothers  can  be  ex 
pected  to  possess. 

But  let  us  see  what  the  three  methods  are. 

First  Method. 

1.  The  first  principle  is  that  the  mother  should  so  regu 
late  her  management  of  her  child,  that  he  should  never  gain 
any  desired  end  by  any  act  of  insubmission,  but  always  in- 


48  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

cur  some  small  trouble,  inconvenience,  or  privation,  by  dis 
obeying  or  neglecting  to  obey  his  mother's  command. 
The  important  words  in  this  statement  of  the  principle  are 
never  and  ahcays.  It  is  the  absolute  certainty  that  disobe 
dience  will  hurt  him,  and  not  help  him,  in  which  the  whole 
efficacy  of  the  rule  consists. 

It  is  very  surprising  how  small  a  punishment  will  prove 
efficacious  if  it  is  only  certain  to  follow  the  transgression. 
You  may  set  apart  a  certain  place  for  a  prison — a  corner 
of  the  sofa,  a  certain  ottoman,  a  chair,  a  stool,  any  thing  will 
answer;  and  the  more  entirely  every  thing  like  an  air  of 
displeasure  or  severity  is  excluded,  in  the  manner  of  mak 
ing  the  preliminary  arrangements,  the  better.  A  mother 
without  any  tact,  or  any  proper  understanding  of  the  way 
in  which  the  hearts  and  minds  of  young  children  are  influ 
enced,  will  begin,  very  likely,  with  a  scolding. 

"  Children,  you  are  getting  very  disobedient.  I  have  to 
speak  three  or  four  times  before  you  move  to  do  what  I 
say.  Now,  I  am  going  to  have  a  prison.  The  prison  is  to 
be  that  dark  closet,  and  I  am  going  to  shut  you  up  in  it  for 
half  an  hour  every  time  you  disobey.  Now,  remember ! 
The  very  next  time  !" 

Empty  Threatening. 

Mothers  who  govern  by  threatening  seldom  do  any  thing 
but  threaten.  Accordingly,  the  first  time  the  children  dis 
obey  her,  after  such  an  announcement,  she  says  nothing,  if 
the  case  happens  to  be  one  in  which  the  disobedience  occa 
sions  her  no  particular  trouble.  The  next  time,  when  the 
transgression  is  a  little  more  serious,  she  thinks,  very  right 
ly  perhaps,  that  to  be  shut  up  half  an  hour  in  a  dark  closet 
would  be  a  disproportionate  punishment.  Then,  when  at 
length  some  very  willful  and  grave  act  of  insubordination 
occurs,  she  happens  to  be  in  particularly  good-humor,  for 


GENTLE  PUNISHMENT  OF  DISOBEDIENCE.  49 

some  reason,  and  has  not  the  heart  to  shut  "  the  poor 
thing  "  in  the  closet ;  or,  perhaps,  there  is  company  pres 
ent,  and  she  does  not  wish  to  make  a  scene.  So  the  pen 
alty  announced  with  so  much  emphasis  turns  out  to  be  a 
dead  letter,  as  the  children  knew  it  would  from  the  begin- 


IIow  Discipline  may  be  both  Gentle  and  Efficient. 

With  a  little  dexterity  and  tact  on  the  mother's  part,  the 
case  may  be  managed  very  differently,  and  with  a  very  dif 
ferent  result.  Let  us  suppose  that  some  day,  while  she  is 
engaged  with  her  sewing  or  her  other  household  duties,  and 
her  children  are  playing  around  her,  she  tells  them  that  in 
some  great  schools  in  Europe,  when  the  boys  arc  disobe 
dient,  or  violate  the  rules,  they  arc  shut  up  for  punishment 
in  a  kind  of  prison ;  and  perhaps  she  entertains  them  with 
invented  examples  of  boys  that  would  not  go  to  prison,  and 
had  to  be  taken  there  by  force,  and  kept  there  longer  on 
account  of  their  contumacy ;  and  also  of  other  noble  boys, 
tall  and  handsome,  and  the  best  players  on  the  grounds, 
who  went  readily  when  they  had  done  wrong  and  were  or 
dered  into  confinement,  and  bore  their  punishment  like  men, 
and  who  were  accordingly  set  free  all  the  sooner  on  that 
account.  Then  she  proposes  to  them  the  idea  of  adopting 
that  plan  herself,  and  asks  them  to  look  all  about  the  room 
and  find  a  good  seat  which  they  can  have  for  their  prison 
— one  end  of  the  sofa,  perhaps,  a  stool  in  a  corner,  or  a 
box  used  as  a  house  for  a  kitten.  I  once  knew  an  instance 
where  a  step  before  a  door  leading  to  a  staircase  served  as 
penitentiary,  and  sitting  upon  it  for  a  minute  or  less  was 
the  severest  punishment  required  to  maintain  most  perfect 
discipline  in  a  family  of  young  children  for  a  long  time. 

When  any  one  of  the  children  violated  any  rule  or  direc 
tion  which  had  been  enjoined  upon  them — as,  for  example, 

C 


50  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

when  they  left  the  door  open  in  coming  in  or  going  out,  in 
the  winter ;  or  interrupted  their  mother  when  she  was  read 
ing,  instead  of  standing  quietly  by  her  side  and  waiting  un 
til  she  looked  up  from  her  book  and  gave  them  leave  to 
speak  to  her;  or  used  any  violence  towards  each  other,  by 
pushing,  or  pulling,  or  struggling  for  a  plaything  or  a  place ; 
or  did  not  come  promptly  to  her  when  called ;  or  did  not 
obey  at  once  the  first  command  in  any  case,  the  mother 
would  say  simply,  "Mary!"  or  "James!  Prison!"  She 
would  pronounce  this  sentence  without  any  appearance  of 
displeasure,  and  often  with  a  smile,  as  if  they  were  only 
playing  prison,  and  then,  in  a  very  few  minutes  after  they 
had  taken  the  penitential  seat,  she  would  say  Free  !  which 
word  set  them  at  liberty  again. 

Must  begin  at  the  Beginning. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  some  mothers,  in  reading  this,  will 
say  that  such  management  as  this  is  mere  trifling  and  play  ; 
and  that  real  and  actual  children,  with  all  their  natural  tur 
bulence,  insubordination,  and  obstinacy,  can  never  be  really 
governed  by  any  such  means.  I  answer  that  whether  it 
proves  on  trial  to  be  merely  trifling  and  play  or  not  de 
pends  upon  the  firmness,  steadiness,  and  decision  with 
which  the  mother  carries  it  into  execution.  Every  method 
of  management  requires  firmness,  perseverance,  and  decis 
ion  on  the  part  of  the  mother  to  make  it  successful,  but, 
with  these  qualities  duly  exercised,  it  is  astonishing  what 
^•slight  and  gentle  penalties  will  suffice  for  the  most  com 
plete  establishment  of  her  authority.  I  knew  a  mother 
whose  children  were  trained  to  habits  of  almost  perfect 
obedience,  and  whose  only  method  of  punishment,  so  far 
as  I  know,  was  to  require  the  offender  to  stand  on  one  foot 
and  count  five,  ten,  or  twenty,  according  to  the  nature  and 
aggravation  of  the  offense.  Such  a  mother,  of  course,  be- 


GENTLE  PUNISHMENT  OF  DISOBEDIENCE.  51 

gins  early  with  her  children.  She  trains  them  from  their 
earliest  years  to  this  constant  subjection  of  their  will  to 
hers.  Such  penalties,  moreover,  owe  their  efficiency  not  to 
the  degree  of  pain  or  inconvenience  that  they  impose  upon 
the  offender,  but  mainly  upon  their  calling  his  attention, 
distinctly,  after  every  offense,  to  the  fact  that  he  has  done 
wrong.  Slight  as  this  is,  it  will  prove  to  be  sufficient  if  it 
always  comes — if  no  case  of  disobedience  or  of  willful 
wrong-doing  of  any  kind  is  allowed  to  pass  unnoticed,  or  is 
not  followed  by  the  infliction  of  the  proper  penalty.  It  is 
in  all  cases  the  certainty,  and  not  the  severity,  of  punish 
ment  which  constitutes  its  power. 

Suppose  one  is  not  at  the  Beginning. 
What  has  been  said  thus  far  relates  obviously  to  cases 
where  the  mother  is  at  the  commencement  of  her  work  of 
training.  This  is  the  way  to  begin  •  but  you  can  not  begin 
unless  you  are  at  the  beginning.  If  your  children  are  part 
ly  grown,  and  you  find  that  they  are  not  under  your  com 
mand,  the  difficulty  is  much  greater.  The  principles  wrhich 
should  govern  the  management  are  the  same,  but  they  can 
not  be  applied  by  means  so  gentle.  The  prison,  it  may  be, 
must  now  be  somewhat  more  real,  the  terms  of  imprison 
ment  somewhat  longer,  and  there  may  be  cases  of  insubor 
dination  so  decided  as  to  require  the  offender  to  be  carried 
to  it  by  force,  on  account  of  his  refusal  to  go  of  his  own 
accord,  and  perhaps  to  be  held  there,  or  even  to  be  tied. 
Cases  requiring  treatment  so  decisive  as  this  must  be  very 
rare  with  children  tinder  ten  years  of  age ;  and  when  they 
occur,  the  mother  has  reason  to  feel  great  self-condemna 
tion — or  at  least  great  self-abasement — at  finding  that  she 
has  failed  so  entirely  in  the  first  great  moral  duty  of  the 
mother,  which  is  to  train  her  children  to  complete  submis* 
sion  to  her  authority  from  the  beginning. 


52  GENTLE  MEA&UMES. 

Children  coming  under  New  Control. 
Sometimes,  however,  it  happens  that  children  are  trans, 
f erred  from  one  charge  to  another,  so  that  the  one  upon 
whom  the  duty  of  government  devolves,  perhaps  only  for  a 
time,  finds  that  the  child  or  children  put  under  his  or  her 
charge  have  been  trained  by  previous  mismanagement  to 
habits  of  utter  insubordination.  I  say,  trained  to  such  hab 
its,  for  the  practice  of  allowing  children  to  gain  their  ends 
by  any  particular  means  is  really  training  them  to  the  use 
of  those  means.  Thus  multitudes  of  children  are  taught  to 
disobey,  and  trained  to  habits  of  insubmission  and  insubor 
dination,  by  the  means  most  effectually  adapted  to  that  end. 

Difficulties. 

When  under  these  circumstances  the  children  come  un 
der  a  new  charge,  whether  permanently  or  temporarily,  the 
task  of  re-forming  their  characters  is  more  delicate  and  dif 
ficult  than  where  one  can  begin  at  the  beginning;  but  the 
principles  are  the  same,  and  the  success  is  equally  certain. 
The  difficulty  is  somewhat  increased  by  the  fact  that  the 
person  thus  provisionally  in  charge  has  often  no  natural 
authority  over  the  child,  and  the  circumstances  may  more 
over  be  such  as  to  make  it  necessary  to  abstain  carefully 
from  any  measures  that  would  lead  to  difficulty  or  collis 
ion,  to  cries,  complaints  to  the  mother,  or  any  of  those  oth 
er  forms  of  commotion  or  annoyance  which  ungoverned 
children  know  so  well  how  to  employ  in  gaining  their 
ends.  The  mother  may  be  one  of  those  weak-minded 
women  who  can  never  see  any  thing  unreasonable  in  the 
crying  complaints  made  by  their  children  against  other 
people.  Or  she  may  be  sick,  and  it  may  be  very  im 
portant  to  avoid  every  thing  that  could  agitate  or  disturb 
her. 


GENTLE  PUNISHMENT  OF  DISOBEDIENCE.  53 

George  and  JEgbert. 

This  last  was  the  case  of  George,  a  young  man  of  sev 
enteen,  who  came  to  spend  some  time  at  home  after  an  ab 
sence  of  two  years  in  the  city.  lie  found  liis  mother  sick, 
and  his  little  brother,  Egbert,  utterly  insubordinate  and  un 
manageable. 

"  The  first  thing  I  have  to  do,"  said  George  to  himself, 
when  he  observed  how  things  were,  ('  is  to  get  command 
of  Egbert ;"  and  as  the  first  lesson  which  ho  gave  his  little 
brother  illustrates  well  the  principle  of  gentle  but  efficient 
punishment,  I  will  give  it  here. 

Egbert  was  ten  years  of  age.  He  was  very  fond  of  go 
ing  a -fishing,  but  he  was  not  allowed  to  go  alone.  His 
mother,  very  weak  and  vacillating  about  some  things,  was 
extremely  decided  about  this.  So  Egbert  had  learned  to 
submit  to  this  restriction,  as  he  would  have  done  to  all 
others  if  his  mother  had  been  equally  decided  in  respect 
to  all. 

The  first  thing  that  Egbert  thought  of  the  next  morning 
after  his  brother's  return  was  that  George  might  go  a-fish- 
ing  with  him. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  George,  in  a  hesitating  and 
doubtful  tone.  "I  don't  know  whether  it  will  do  for  me 
to  go  a-fishing  with  you.  I  don't  know  whether  I  can  de 
pend  upon  your  always  obeying  me  and  doing  as  I  say." 

Egbert  made  very  positive  promises,  and  so  it  was  de 
cided  to  go.  George  took  great  interest  in  helping  Eg 
bert  about  his  fishing-tackle,  and  did  all  in  his  power  in 
other  ways  to  establish  friendly  relations  with  him,  and  at 
length  they  set  out.  They  walked  a  little  distance  down 
what  was  in  the  winter  a  wood  road,  and.  then  came  to  a 
place  where  two  paths  led  into  a  wood.  Either  of  them 
led  to  the  river.  But  there  was  a  brook  to  cross,  and  for 


51  GENTLE  MEASURES, 

one  of  these  paths  there  was  «i  bridge.  There  was  none 
for  the  other.  George  said  that  they  would  take  the  for 
mer.  Egbert,  however,  paid  no  regard  to  this  direction, 
but  saying  simply  "  No,  I'd  rather  go  this  way,"  walked 
off  in  the  other  path. 

"  I  was  afraid  you  would  not  obey  me,"  said  George,  and 
then  turned  and  followed  Egbert  into  the  forbidden  path, 
without  making  any  further  objection.  Egbert  concluded 
at  once  that  he  should  find  George  as  easily  to  be  managed 
as  he  had  found  other  people. 

The  Disobedience. 

When  they  came  in  sight  of  the  brook,  George  saw  that 
there  was  a  narrow  log  across  it,  in  guise  of  a  bridge.  He 
called  out  to  Egbert,  who  had  gone  on  before  him,  not  to 
go  over  the  log  until  he  came.  But  Egbert  called  back  in 
reply  that  there  was  no  danger,  that  he  could  go  across 
alone,  and  so  went  boldly  over.  George,  on  arriving  at 
the  brook,  and  finding  that  the  log  was  firm  and  strong, 
followed  Egbert  over  it.  "  I  told  you  I  could  go  across 
it,"  said  Egbert.  "  Yes,"  replied  George,  "  and  you  were 
right  in  that.  You  did  cross  it.  The  log  is  very  steady. 
I  think  it  makes  quite  a  good  bridge." 

Egbert  said  he  could  hop  across  it  on  one  foot,  and 
George  gave  him  leave  to  try,  while  he,  George,  held  his 
fishing-pole  for  him.  George  followed  him  over  the  log, 
and  then  told  him  that  he  was  very  sorry  to  say  it,  but  that 
he  found  that  they  could  not  go  a-fishing  that  day.  Eg 
bert  wished  to  know  the  reason.  George  said  it  was  a 
private  reason  and  he  could  not  tell  him  then,  but  that  he 
would  tell  him  that  evening  after  he  had  gone  to  bed. 
There  was  a  story  about  it,  too,  he  said,  that  he  would  tell 
him  at  the  same  time. 

Egbert  was  curious  to  know  what  the  reason  could  be 


GENTLE  PUNISHMENT  OF  DISOBEDIENCE.  55 

for  changing  the  plan,  and  also  to  hear  the  story.  Still  he 
was  extremely  disappointed  in  having  to  lose  his  fishing, 
and  very  much  disposed  to  be  angry  with  George  for  not 
going  on.  It  was,  however,  difficult  to  get  very  angry  with 
out  knowing  George's  reason,  and  George,  though  he  said 
that  the  reason  was  a  good  one — that  it  was  a  serious  dif 
ficulty  in  the  way  of  going  a-fishing  that  day,  which  had 
only  come  to  his  knowledge  since  they  left  home,  steadily 
persisted  in  declining  to  explain  what  the  difficulty  was 
until  the  evening,  and  began  slowly  to  walk  back  toward 
the  house. 

Egbert  becomes  Sullen. 

Egbert  then  declared  that,  at  any  rate,  he  would  not  go 
home.  If  he  could  not  go  a-fishing  he  would  stay  there  in 
the  woods.  George  readily  fell  in  with  this  idea.  "  Here 
is  a  nice  place  for  me  to  sit  down  on  this  flat  rock  under 
the  trees,"  said  he,  "  and  I  have  got  a  book  in  my  pocket. 
You  can  play  about  in  the  woods  as  long  as  you  please. 
Perhaps  you  will  see  a  squirrel ;  if  you  do,  tell  me,  and  I 
will  come  and  help  you  catch  him."  So  saying,  he  took 
out  his  book  and  sat  down  under  the  trees  and  began  to 
read.  Egbert,  after  loitering  about  sullenly  a  few  minutes, 
began  to  walk  up  the  pnth,  and  said  that  he  was  going 
home. 

George,  however,  soon  succeeded  in  putting  him  in  good- 
humor  again  by  talking  with  him  in  a  friendly  manner,  and 
without  manifesting  any  signs  of  displeasure,  and  also  by 
playing  with  him  on  the  way.  He  took  care  to  keep  on 
friendly  terms  with  him  all  the  afternoon,  aiding  him  in 
his  various  undertakings,  and  contributing  to  his  amuse 
ment  in  every  way  as  much  as  he  could,  while  he  made  no 
complaint,  and  expressed  no  dissatisfaction  with  him  in  any 
way  whatever. 


50  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

Final  Disposition  of  the  Case. 

After  Egbert  had  gone  to  bed,  and  before  he  went  to 
sleep,  George  made  him  a  visit  at  his  bedside,  and,  after  a 
little  playful  frolic  with  him,  to  put  him  in  special  good- 
humor,  said  he  would  make  his  explanation. 

"  The  reason  why  I  had  to  give  up  the  fishing  expedi 
tion,"  he  said, "  was,  I  found  that  I  could  not  depend  upon 
your  obeying  me." 

Egbert,  after  a  moment's  pause,  said  that  he  did  not  dis 
obey  him ;  and  when  George  reminded  him  of  his  taking 
the  path  that  he  was  forbidden  to  take,  and  of  his  crossing 
the  log  bridge  against  orders,  he  said  that  that  path  led  to 
the  river  by  the  shortest  way,  and  that  he  knew  that  the 
log  was  firm  and  steady,  and  that  he  could  go  over  it  with 
out  falling  in.  "And  so  you  thought  you  had  good  rea 
sons  for  disobeying  me,"  rejoined  George.  "  Yes,"  said 
Egbert,  triumphantly.  "That  is  just  it,"  said  George. 
"You  are  willing  to  obey,  except  when  you  think  you  have 
good  reasons  for  disobeying,  and  then  you  disobey.  That's 
the  way  a  great  many  boys  do,  and  that  reminds  me  of  the 
story  I  was  going  to  tell  you.  It  is  about  some  soldiers." 

George  then  told  Egbert  a  long  story  about  a  colonel 
who  sent  a  captain  with  a  company  of  men  on  a  secret 
expedition  with  specific  orders,  and  the  captain  disobeyed 
the  orders  and  crossed  a  stream  with  his  force,  when  he 
had  been  directed  to  remain  on  the  hither  side  of  it,  think 
ing  himself  that  it  would  be  better  to  cross,  and  in  conse 
quence  of  it  he  and  all  his  force  were  captured  by  the  en 
emy,  who  were  lying  in  ambush  near  by,  as  the  colonel 
knew,  though  the  captain  did  not  know  it.  George  con 
cluded  his  story  with  some  very  forcible  remarks,  showing, 
in  a  manner  adapted  to  Egbert's  state  of  mental  develop 
ment,  how  essential  it  was  to  the  character  of  a  good  >1- 


GENTLE  PUNISHMENT  OF  DISOBEDIENCE.  57 

dier  that  he  should  obey  implicitly  all  the  commands  of 
his  superior,  without  ever  presuming  to  disregard  them  on 
the  ground  of  his  seeing  good  reason  for  doing  so. 

He  then  went  on  to  relate  another  story  of  an  officer  on 
whom  the  general  could  rely  for  implicit  and  unhesitating 
obedience  to  all  his  commands,  and  who  was  sent  on  an 
important  expedition  with  orders,  the  reasons  for  which  he 
did  not  understand,  but  all  of  which  he  promptly  obeyed, 
and  thus  brought  the  expedition  to  a  successful  conclusion. 
He  made  the  story  interesting  to  Egbert  by  narrating  many 
details  of  a  character  adapted  to  Egbert's  comprehension, 
and  at  the  end  drew  a  moral  from  it  for  his  instruction. 

The  Moral. 

This  moral  was  not,  as  some  readers  might  perhaps  an 
ticipate,  and  as,  indeed,  many  persons  of  less  tact  might 
have  made  it,  that  Egbert  ought  himself,  as  a  boy,  to  obey 
those  in  authority  over  him.  Instead  of  this  he  closed  by 
saying :  " And  I  advise  you,  if  you  grow  up  to  be  a  man 
and  ever  become  the  general  of  an  army,  never  to  trust  any 
captain  or  colonel  with  the  charge  of  an  important  enter 
prise,  unless  they  are  men  that  know  how  to  obey."  Eg 
bert  answered  very  gravely  that  he  was  "  determined  that 
he  wouldn't." 

Soon  after  this  George  bade  him  good-night  and  went 
away.  The  next  day  he  told  Egbert  not  to  be  discouraged 
at  his  not  having  yet  learned  to  obey."  "  There  are  a  great 
many  boys  older  than  you,"  he  said,  "  who  have  not  learned 
this  lesson ;  but  you  will  learn  in  time.  I  can't  go  a-fish- 
ing  with  you,  or  undertake  any  other  great  expeditions,  till 
I  find  I  can  trust  you  entirely  to  do  exactly  as  I  say  in 
cases  where  I  have  a  right  to  decide ;  but  you  will  learn 
before  long,  and  then  we  can  do  a  great  many  things  to 
gether  which  WTC  can  not  do  now." 

C  2 


63  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

The  Principles  Illustrated. 

Any  one  who  has  any  proper  understanding  of  the  work 
ings  of  the  juvenile  mind  will  see  that  George,  by  mana 
ging  Egbert  on  these  principles,  would  in  a  short  time  ac 
quire  complete  ascendency  over  him,  while  the  boy  would 
very  probably  remain,  in  relation  to  his  mother,  as  disobe 
dient  and  insubordinate  as  ever.  If  the  penalty  annexed 
to  the  transgression  is  made  as  much  as  possible  the  nec 
essary  and  natural  consequence  of  it,  and  is  insisted  upon 
calmly,  deliberately,  and  with  inflexible  decision,  but  with 
out  irritation,  without  reproaches,  almost  without  any  indi 
cations  even  of  displeasure,  but  is,  on  the  contrary,  lighten 
ed  as  much  as  possible  by  sympathy  and  kindness,  and  by 
taking  the  most  indulgent  views,  and  admitting  the  most  pal 
liating  considerations  in  respect  to  the  nature  of  the  offense, 
the  result  will  certainly  be  the  establishment  of  the  authority 
of  the  parent  or  guardian  on  a  firm  and  permanent  basis. 

There  are  a  great  many  cases  of  this  kind,  where  a  child 
with  confirmed  habits  of  insubordination  comes  under  the 
charge  of  a  person  wrho  is  not  responsible  for  the  formation 
of  these  habits.  Even  the  mother  herself  sometimes  finds 
herself  in  substantially  this  position  with  her  own  children ; 
as,  for  example,  when  after  some  years  of  lax  and  inefficient 
government  she  becomes  convinced  that  her  management 
has  been  wrong,  and  that  it  threatens  to  bring  forth  bitter 
fruits  unless  it  is  reformed.  In  these  cases,  although  the 
work  is  somewhat  more  difficult,  the  principles  on  which 
success  depends  are  the  same.  Slight  penalties,  firmly,  de 
cisively,  and  invariably  enforced — without  violence,  without 
scolding,  without  any  manifestation  of  resentment  or  anger, 
and,  except  in  extreme  cases,  without  even  expressions  of 
displeasure — constitute  a  system  which,  if  carried  out  calm 
ly,  but  with  firmness  and  decision,  will  assuredly  succeed. 


GENTLE  PUNISHMENT  OF  DISOBEDIENCE.  59 

The  real  Difficulty. 

The  case  would  thus  seem  to  be  very  simple,  and  suc 
cess  very  easy.  But,  alas  !  this  is  far  from  being  the  case. 
Nothing  is  required,  it  is  true,  but  firmness,  steadiness,  and 
decision ;  but,  unfortunately,  these  are  the  very  requisites 
which,  of  all  others,  it  seems  most  difficult  for  mothers  to 
command.  They  can  not  govern  their  children  because 
they  can  not  govern  themselves. 

Still,  if  the  mother  possess  these  qualities  in  any  tolera 
ble  degree,  or  is  able  to  acquire  them,  this  method  of  train 
ing  her  children  to  the  habit  of  submitting  implicitly  to 
her  authority,  by  calmly  and  good-naturedly,  but  firmly  and 
invariably,  affixing  some  slight  privation  or  penalty  to  ev 
ery  act  of  resistance  to  her  will,  is  the  easiest  to  practice, 
and  will  certainly  be  successful.  It  requires  no  ingenuity, 
no  skill,  no  contrivance,  no  thought — nothing  but  steady 
persistence  in  a  simple  routine.  This  was  the  first  of  the 
three  modes  of  action  enumerated  at  the  commencement 
of  this  discussion.  There  were  two  others  named,  which, 
though  requiring  higher  qualities  in  the  mother  than  sim 
ple  steadiness  of  purpose,  will  make  the  work  far  more  easy 
and  agreeable,  where  these  qualities  are  possessed. 

Some  further  consideration  of  the  subject  of  punishment, 
with  special  reference  to  the  light  in  which  it  is  to  be  re 
garded  in  respect  to  its  nature  and  its  true  mode  of  action, 
will  occupy  the  next  chapter. 


60  GENTLE  MEASURES. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PUNISHMENT. 

IT  is  very  desirable  that  every  parent  and  teacher  should 
have  a  distinct  and  clear  conception  of  the  true  nature  of 
punishment,  and  of  the  precise  manner  in  which  it  is  de 
signed  to  act  in  repressing  offenses.  This  is  necessary  in 
order  that  the  punitive  measures  which  he  may  employ 
may  accomplish  the  desired  good,  and  avoid  the  evils  which 
so  often  follow  in  their  train. 

Nature  and  Design  of  Punishment. 
The  first  question  which  is  to  be  considered  in  determin 
ing  upon  the  principles  to  be  adopted  and  the  course  to  be 
pursued  with  children  in  respect  to  punishment,  is,  which 
of  the  two  views  in  respect  to  the  nature  and  design  of 
punishment  which  prevail  in  the  minds  of  men  we  will 
adopt  in  shaping  our  system.  For, 

1.  Punishment  may  be  considered  in  the  light  of  a  vin 
dictive  retribution  for  sin  —  a  penalty  demanded  by  the 
eternal  principles  of  justice  as  the  natural  and  proper  se 
quel  and  complement  of  the  past  act  of  transgression,  with 
or  without  regard  to  any  salutary  effects  that  may  result 
from  it  in  respect  to  future  acts.     Or, 

2.  It  may  be  considered  as  a  remedial  measure,  adopted 
solely  with  reference  to  its  influence  as  a  means  of  deter 
ring  the  subject  of  it,  or  others,  from  transgression  in  time 
to  come. 

According  to  the  first  view,  punishment  is  a  penalty 
which  justice  demands  as  a  satisfaction  for  the  past.  Ac- 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PUNISHMENT.  GJ 

cording  to  the  other  it  is  a  remedy  which  goodness  devises 
for  the  benefit  of  the  future. 

Theologians  have  lost  themselves  in  endless  speculations 
on  the  question  how  far,  in  the  government  of  God,  punish 
ment  is  to  be  considered  as  possessing  one  or  the  other  of 
these  two  characters,  or  both  combined.  There  seems  to 
be  also  some  uncertainty  in  the  minds  of  men  in  relation  to 
the  precise  light  in  which  the  penalties  of  violated  law  are 
to  be  regarded  by  civil  governments,  and  the  spirit  in  which 
they  are  to  be  administered — they  being  apparently,  as  pre 
scribed  and  employed  by  most  governments,  in  some  re 
spects,  and  to  some  extent,  retributive  and  vindictive,  and 
in  other  respects  remedial  and  curative. 

It  would  seem,  however,  that  in  respect  to  school  and 
family  government  there  could  be  no  question  on  this  point. 
The  punishment  of  a  child  by  a  parent,  or  of  a  pupil  by  a 
teacher,  ought  certainly,  one  would  think,  to  exclude  the  el 
ement  of  vindictive  retribution  altogether,  and  to  be  em 
ployed  solely  with  reference  to  the  salutary  influences  that 
may  be  expected  from  it  in  time  to  come.  If  the  injunc 
tion  "  Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  repay  it,  saith  the  Lord  " 
is  to  be  recognized  at  all,  it  certainly  ought  to  be  acknowl 
edged  here. 

This  principle,  once  fully  and  cordially  admitted,  simpli 
fies  the  subject  of  punishment,  as  administered  by  parents 
and  teachers,  very  much.  One  extremely  important  and 
very  striking  result  of  it  will  appear  from  a  moment's  re 
flection.  It  is  this,  namely : 

It  excludes  completely  and  effectually  all  manifestations 
of  irritation  or  excitement  in  the  infliction  of  punishment — 
all  harsh  tones  of  voice,  all  scowling  or  angry  looks,  all  vio 
lent  or  threatening  gesticulations,  and  every  other  mode,  in 
fact,  of  expressing  indignation  or  passion.  Such  indications 
as  these  are  wholly  out  of  place  in  punishment  considered 


63  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

as  the  application  of  a  remedy  devised  beneficently  with 
the  sole  view  of  accomplishing  a  future  good.  They  com 
port  only  with  punishment  considered  as  vengeance,  or  a 
vindictive  retribution  for  the  past  sin. 

This  idea  is  fundamental.  The  mother  who  is  made  an 
gry  by  the  misconduct  of  her  children,  and  punishes  them 
in  a  passion,  acts  under  the  influence  of  a  brute  instinct. 
Her  family  government  is  in  principle  the  same  as  that  of 
the  lower  animals  over  their  young.  It  is,  however,  at  any 
rate,  a  government;  and  such  government  is  certainly  bet 
ter  than  none.  But  human  parents,  in  the  training  of  their 
human  offspring,  ought  surely  to  aim  at  something  higher 
and  nobler.  They  who  do  so,  who  possess  themselves  fully 
with  the  idea  that  punishment,  as  they  are  to  administer  it, 
is  wholly  remedial  in  its  character — that  is  to  say,  is  to  be 
considered  solely  with  reference  to  the  future  good  to  bo 
attained  by  it,  will  have  established  in  their  minds  a  prin 
ciple  that  will  surely  guide  them  into  right  ways,  and  bring 
them  out  successfully  in  the  end.  They  will  soon  acquire 
the  habit  of  never  threatening,  of  never  punishing  in  anger, 
and  of  calmly  considering,  in  the  case  of  the  faults  which 
they  observe  in  their  children,  what  course  of  procedure 
will  be  most  effectual  in  correcting  them. 

Parents  seem  sometimes  to  have  an  idea  that  a  manifes 
tation  of  something  like  anger  —  or,  at  least,  very  serious 
displeasure  on  their  part — is  necessary  in  order  to  make  a 
proper  impression  in  respect  to  its  fault  on  the  mind  of 
the  child.  This,  however,  I  think,  is  a  mistake.  The  im 
pression  is  made  by  what  we  do,  and  not  by  the  indications 
of  irritation  or  displeasure  which  we  manifest  in  doing  it. 
To  illustrate  this,  I  will  state  a  case,  narrating  all  its  essen 
tial  points  just  as  it  occurred.  The  case  is  very  analogous, 
in  many  particulars,  to  that  of  Egbert  and  George  related 
in  the  last  chapter. 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PUNISHMENT.  (£ 

Mary's  VfaUc. 

"  Mary,"  said  Mary's  aunt,  Jane,  who  had  come  to  make 
a  visit  at  Mary's  mother's  in  the  country,  "  I  am  going  to 
the  village  this  afternoon,  and  if  you  would  like  you  may 
go  with  me." 

Mary  was,  of  course,  much  pleased  with  this  invitation. 

"A  part  of  the  way,"  continued  her  aunt,  "is  by  a  path 
across  the  fields.  While  we  are  there  you  must  keep  in 
the  path  all  the  time,  for  it  rained  a  little  this  morning,  and 
I  am  afraid  that  the  grass  may  not  be  quite  dry." 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Jane ;  I'll  keep  in  the  path,"  said  Mary. 

So  they  set  out  on  the  walk  together.  When  they  came 
to  the  gate  which  led  to  the  path  across  the  fields,  Aunt 
Jane  said,  "  Remember,  Mary,  you  must  keep  in  the  path." 

Mary  said  nothing,  but  ran  forward.  Pretty  soon  she 
began  to  walk  a  little  on  the  margin  of  the  grass,  and,  be 
fore  long,  observing  a  place  where  the  grass  was  short  and 
where  the  sun  shone,  she  ran  out  boldly  upon  it,  and  then, 
looking  down  at  her  shoes,  she  observed  that  they  were  not 
wet.  She  held  up  one  of  her  feet  to  her  aunt  as  she  came 
opposite  to  the  place,  saying, 

"  See,  aunt,  the  grass  is  not  wet  at  all." 

"  I  see  it  is  not,"  said  her  aunt.  "  I  thought  it  would  not 
be  wet ;  though  I  was  not  sure  but  that  it  might  be.  But 
come,"  she  added,  holding  out  her  hand,  "  I  have  concluded 
not  to  go  to  the  village,  after  all.  We  are  going  back 
home." 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Jane !"  said  Mary,  following  her  aunt  as  she 
began  retracing  her  steps  along  the  path.  "What  is  that 
for?" 

"  I  have  altered  my  mind,"  said  her  aunt. 

"  What  makes  you  alter  your  mind  ?" 

By  this  time  Aunt  Jane  had  taken  hold  of  Mary's  hand, 


04  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

and  they  were  walking  together  along  the  path  towards 
home. 

"  Because  you  don't  obey  me,"  she  said. 

"Why,  auntie,"  said  Mary,  "the  grass  was  not  wet  at  all 
where  I  went." 

"  No,"  said  her  aunt,  "  it  was  perfectly  dry." 

"  And  it  did  not  do  any  harm  at  all  for  me  to  walk  upon 
it,"  said  Mary. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  harm,"  said  her  aunt. 

"  Then  why  are  you  going  home  ?"  asked  Mary. 

"  Because  you  don't  obey  me,"  replied  her  aunt. 

"  You  see,"  said  her  aunt,  "  there  is  one  thing  about  this 
that  you  don't  understand,  because  you  are  such  a  little 
girl.  You  wTill  understand  it  by-and-by,  when  you  grow 
older ;  and  I  don't  blame  you  for  not  knowing  it  now,  be 
cause  you  are  so  young." 

"What  is  it  that  I  don't  know?"  asked  Mary. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  would  riot  understand  it  very  well  if  I 
were  to  explain  it,"  replied  her  aunt. 

"  Try  me,"  said  Mary. 

"  Well,  you  see,"  replied  her  aunt,  "  I  don't  feel  safe  with 
any  child  that  does  not  obey  me.  This  time  no  harm  was 
done,  because  the  grass  happened  to  be  dry ;  but  farther 
on  there  was  a  brook.  I  might  have  told  you  not  to  go 
near  the  brink  of  the  brook  for  fear  of  your  falling  in. 
Then  you  might  have  gone,  notwithstanding,  if  you  thought 
there  was  no  danger,  just  as  you  went  out  upon  the  grass 
because  you  thought  it  was  not  wet,  notwithstanding  my 
saying  that  you  must  keep  in  the  path.  So  you  see  I  never 
feel  safe  in  taking  walks  in  places  where  there  is  any  dan 
ger  with  children  that  I  can  not  always  depend  upon  to  do 
exactly  what  I  say." 

Mary  was,  of  course,  now  ready  to  make  profuse  prom 
ises  that  she  would  obey  her  aunt  in  future  on  all  occa- 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  FVNI8HMKNT.  C5 

sions,  and  began  to  beg  that  she  would  continue  her  walk 
to  the  village. 

"  No,"  said  her  aunt,  "I  don't  think  it  would  be  quite  safe 
for  me  to  trust  to  your  promises,  though  I  have  no  doubt 
you  honestly  mean  to  keep  them.  But  you  remember  you 
promised  me  that  you  would  keep  in  the  path  when  we 
planned  this  walk;  and  yet  when  the  time  of  temptation 
came  you  could  not  keep  the  promise ;  but  you  will  learn. 
When  I  am  going  on  some  perfectly  safe  walk  I  will  take 
you  with  me  again ;  and  if  I  stay  here  some  time  you  will 
learn  to  obey  me  so  perfectly  that  I  can  take  you  with  me 
to  any  place,  no  matter  how  dangerous  it  may  be." 

Aunt  Jane  thus  gently,  but  firmly,  persisted  in  abandon 
ing  the  walk  to  the  village,  and  returning  home;  but  she 
immediately  turned  the  conversation  away  from  the  sub 
ject  of  Mary's  fault,  and  amused  her  with  stories  and  aid 
ed  her  in  gathering  flowers,  just  as  if  nothing  had  hap 
pened;  and  when  she  arrived  at  home  she  said  nothing 
to  any  one  of  Mary's  disobedience.  Here  now  was  punish 
ment  calculated  to  make  a  very  strong  impression — but 
still  without  scolding,  without  anger,  almost,  in  fact,  with 
out  even  any  manifestations  of  displeasure.  And  yet  how 
long  can  any  reasonable  person  suppose  it  would  be  before 
Mary  would  learn,  if  her  aunt  acted  Invariably  on  the  same 
principles,  to  submit  implicitly  to  her  will? 

A  Different  Management. 

Compare  the  probable  result  of  this  mode  of  manage 
ment  with  the  scolding  and  threatening  policy.  Suppose 
Aunt  Jane  had  called  to  Mary  angrily, 

"Mary  !  Mary !  come  directly  back  into  the  path,  I  told 
you  not  to  go  out  of  the  path,  and  you  are  a  very  naughty 
child  to  disobey  me.  The  next  time  you  disobey  me  in 
that  way  I  will  send  you  directly  home." 


60  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

Mary  would  have  been  vexed  and  irritated,  perhaps,  and 
would  have  said  to  herself,  "  How  cross  Aunt  Jane  is  to 
day  !"  but  the  "  next  time  "  she  would  have  been  as  disobe 
dient  as  ever. 

If  mothers,  instead  of  scowling,  scolding,  and  threatening 
now,  and  putting  off  doing  the  thing  that  ought  to  be  done 
to  the  "  next  time,"  would  do  that  thing  at  once,  and  give 
up  the  scowling,  scolding,  and  threatening  altogether,  they 
would  find  all  parties  immensely  benefited  by  the  change. 

It  is  evident,  moreover,  that  by  this  mode  of  management 
the  punishment  is  employed  not  in  the  way  of  retribution, 
but  as  a  remedy.  Mary  loses  her  walk  not  on  the  ground 
that  she  deserved  to  lose  it,  but  because  it  was  not  safe  to 
continue  it. 

An  Objection. 

Some  mother  may  perhaps  say,  in  reference  to  the  cvse 
of  Mary  and  her  aunt,  that  it  may  be  all  very  well  in  the 
ory,  but  that  practically  mothers  have  not  the  leisure  and 
the  means  for  adopting  such  moderate  measures.  We  cau 
not  stop,  she  may  say,  every  time  we  are  going  to  the  vil 
lage,  on  important  business  perhaps,  and  turn  back  and  losu 
the  afternoon  on  account  of  the  waywardness  of  a  disobe 
dient  child. 

My  answer  is  that  it  will  not  have  to  be  done  every  time^ 
but  only  very  seldom.  The  effect  of  acting  once  or  twice 
on  this  principle,  with  the  certainty  on  the  part  of  the  child 
that  the  mother  or  the  aunt  will  always  act  so  when  the  oc 
casion  calls  for  it,  very  soon  puts  an  end  to  all  necessity  for 
such  action.  Indeed,  if  Mary,  in  the  instance  above  given, 
had  been  managed  in  this  way  from  infancy,  she  would  not 
have  thought  of  leaving  the  path  when  forbidden  to  do  so. 
It  is  only  in  some  such  case  as  that  of  an  aunt  who  knows 
how  to  manage  right,  coming  as  a  visitor  into  the  family  of 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PUNISHMENT.  G7 

a  mother  who  manages  wrong,  that  such  an  incident  as  this 
could  occur. 

Still  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  gentle  methods  of  dis 
cipline,  which  reason  and  common  sense  indicate  as  the  true 
ones  for  permanently  influencing  the  minds  of  children  and 
forming  their  characters,  do,  in  each  individual  case,  require 
more  time  and  care  than  the  cuffs  and  slaps  dictated  by 
passion.  A  box  on  the  ear,  such  as  a  cat  gives  to  a  rebel 
lious  kitten,  is  certainly  the  quickest  application  that  can  be 
made.  The  measures  that  arc  calculated  to  reach  and  af 
fect  the  heart  can  not  vie  with  blows  and  scoldings  in  re 
spect  to  the  promptness  of  their  action.  Still,  the  parent  or 
the  teacher  who  will  begin  to  act  on  the  principles  here 
recommended  with  children  while  they  are  young  will  find 
that  such  methods  are  far  more  prompt  in  their  action  and 
more  effectual  in  immediate  results  than  they  would  sup 
pose,  and  that  they  will  be  the  means  of  establishing  the 
only  kind  of  authority  that  is  really  worthy  of  the  name 
more  rapidly  than  any  other. 

The  special  point,  however,  with  a  view  to  which  these  il 
lustrations  are  introduced,  is,  as  has  been  already  remarked, 
that  penalties  of  this  nature,  and  imposed  in  this  spirit,  are 
not  vindictive,  but  simply  remedial  and  reformatory.  They 
are  not  intended  to  satisfy  the  sense  of  justice  for  what  is 
past,  but  only  to  secure  greater  safety  and  happiness  in 
time  to  come. 

The  Element  of  Invar  iableness. 

Punishments  may  be  very  light  and  gentle  in  their  char 
acter,  provided  they  are  certain  to  follow  the  offense.  It  is 
in  their  certainty ',  and  not  in  their  severity,  that  the  efficien 
cy  of  them  lies.  Very  few  children  are  ever  severely  burnt 
by  putting  their  fingers  into  the  flame  of  a  candle.  They 
are  effectually  taught  not  to  put  them  in  by  very  slight 


GS  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

burnings,  on  account  of  the  absolute  invar idbleness  of  the 
result  produced  by  the  contact. 

Mothers  often  do  not  understand  this.  They  attempt  to 
cure  some  habitual  fault  by  scoldings  and  threats,  and  dec 
larations  of  what  they  will  certainly  do  "next  time,"  and 
perhaps  by  occasional  acts  of  real  severity  in  cases  of  pe 
culiar  aggravation,  instead  of  a  quiet,  gentle,  and  compara 
tively  trifling  infliction  in  every  instance  of  the  fault,  which 
would  be  altogether  more  effectual. 

A  child,  for  example,  has  acquired  the  habit  of  leaving 
the  door  open.  Now  occasionally  scolding  him,  when  it  is 
specially  cold,  and  now  and  then  shutting  him  up  in  a  closet 
for  half  an  hour,  will  never  cure  him  of  the  fault.  But  if 
there  were  an  automaton  figure  standing  by  the  side  of  the 
door,  to  say  to  him  every  time  that  he  came  through  with 
out  shutting  it,  Door!  which  call  should  be  a  signal  to  him 
to  go  back  and  shut  the  door,  and  then  sit  down  in  a  chair 
near  by  and  count  ten ;  and  if  this  slight  penalty  was  inva 
riably  enforced,  he  would  be  most  effectually  cured  of  the 
fault  in  a  very  short  time. 

Now,  the  mother  can  not  be  exactly  this  automaton,  for 
she  can  not  always  be  there;  but  she  can  recognize  the 
principle,  and  carry  it  into  effect  as  far  as  possible — that  is, 
invariably,  when  she  is  there.  And  though  she  will  not 
thus  cure  the  boy  of  the  fault  so  soon  as  the  automaton 
would  do  it,  she  will  still  do  it  very  soon. 

Irritation  and  Anger. 

Avoid,  as  much  as  possible,  every  thing  of  an  irritating 
Character  in  the  punishments  inflicted,  for  to  irritate  fre 
quently  the  mind  of  a  child  tends,  of  course,  to  form  within 
him  an  irritable  and  unamiable  temper.  It  is  true,  per 
haps,  that  it  is  not  possible  absolutely  to  avoid  this  effect 
of  punishment  in  all  cases ;  but  a  great  deal  may  be  done 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PUNISHMENT.  C9 

to  diminish  the  evil  by  the  exercise  of  a  little  tact  and  in 
genuity  on  the  part  of  the  mother  whose  attention  is  once 
particularly  directed  to  the  subject. 

The  first  and  most  important  measure  of  precaution  on 
this  point  is  the  absolute  exclusion  of  every  thing  like  an 
gry  looks  and  words  as  accompaniments  of  punishment.  If 
you  find  that  any  wrong  which  your  child  commits  awakens 
irritation  or  anger  in  your  mind,  suspend  your  judgment 
of  the  case  and  postpone  all  action  until  the  irritation  and 
anger  have  subsided,  and  you  can  consider  calmly  and  de 
liberately  what  to  do,  with  a  view,  not  of  satisfying  your 
own  resentment,  but  of  doing  good  to  the  child.  Then, 
when  you  have  decided  what  to  do,  carry  your  decision 
into  effect  in  a  good-natured  manner — firmly  and  inflexibly — 
but  still  without  any  violence,  or  even  harshness,  of  manner. 

Co-operation  of  the  Offender. 

There  are  many  cases  in  wrhich,  by  the  exercise  of  a  little 
tact  and  ingenuity,  the  parent  can  actually  secure  the  co 
operation  of  the  child  in  the  infliction  of  the  punishment 
prescribed  for  the  curing  of  a  fault.  There  are  many  ad 
vantages  in  this,  when  it  can  be  done.  It  gives  the  child 
an  interest  in  curing  himself  of  the  fault;  it  makes  the 
punishment  more  eff ectual ;  and  it  removes  almost  all  pos 
sibility  of  its  producing  any  irritation  or  resentment  in  his 
mind.  To  illustrate  this  we  will  give  a  case.  It  is  of  no 
consequence,  for  the  purpose  of  this  article,  whether  it  is  a 
real  or  an  imaginary  one. 

Little  Egbert,  seven  years  old,  had  formed  the  habit  so 
common  among  children  of  wasting  a  great  deal  of  time  in 
dressing  himself,  so  as  not  to  be  ready  for  breakfast  when 
the  second  bell  rang.  His  mother  offered  him  a  reward  if 
he  would  himself  devise  any  plan  that  would  cure  him  of 
the  fault. 


70  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  do,  exactly,  to  cure  you,"  she 
said ;  "  but  if  you  will  think  of  any  plan  that  will  really 
succeed,  I  will  give  you  an  excursion  in  a  carriage." 

"  How  far  ?»  asked  Egbert. 

"  Ten  miles,"  said  his  mother.  "  I  will  take  you  in  a 
carriage  on  an  excursion  anywhere  you  say,  for  ten  miles, 
if  you  will  find  out  some  way  to  cure  yourself  of  this 
fault." 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  punish  me,"  said  Egbert,  speak 
ing  in  rather  a  timid  tone. 

"That's  just  it,"  said  his  mother.  "It  is  for  you  to 
think  of  some  kind  of  punishment  that  won't  be  too  dis 
agreeable  for  me  to  inflict,  and  which  will  yet  be  success 
ful  in  curing  you  of  the  fault.  I  will  allow  you  a  fortnight 
to  get  cured.  If  you  are  not  cured  in  a  fortnight  I  shall 
think  the  punishment  is  not  enough,  or  that  it  is  not  of  a 
good  kind ;  but  if  it  works  so  well  as  to  cure  you  in  a  fort 
night,  then  you  shall  have  the  ride." 

Egbert  wished  to  know  whether  he  must  think  of  the 
punishment  himself,  or  whether  his  sister  Mary  might  help 
him.  His  mother  gave  him  leave  to  ask  any  body  to  help 
him  that  he  pleased.  Mary,  after  some  reflection,  recom 
mended  that,  whenever  he  was  not  dressed  in  time,  he  was 
to  have  only  one  lump  of  sugar,  instead  of  four,  in  his  tum 
bler  of  water  for  breakfast. 

His  usual  drink  at  breakfast  was  a  tumbler  of  water, 
with  four  lumps  of  sugar  in  it.  The  first  bell  was  rung  at 
half-past  six,  and  breakfast  was  at  half-past  seven.  His  sis 
ter  recommended  that,  as  half  an  hour  was  ample  time  for 
the  work  of  dressing,  Egbert  should  go  down  every  morn 
ing  and  report  himself  ready  before  the  clock  struck  seven. 
If  he  failed  of  this,  he  was  to  have  only  one  lump  of  sugar, 
instead  of  four,  in  his  glass  of  water. 

There  was  some  question  about  the  necessity  of  requir- 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PUNISHMENT.  11 

ing  him  to  be  ready  before  seven ;  Egbert  being  inclined  to 
argue  that  if  he  was  ready  by  breakfast-time,  that  would 
be  enough.  But  Mary  said  no.  "  To  allow  you  a  full  hour 
to  dress,"  she  said,  "  when  half  an  hour  is  enough,  may  an 
swer  very  well  in  respect  to  having  you  ready  for  break 
fast,  but  it  is  no  way  to  cure  you  of  the  fault.  That  would 
enable  you  to  play  half  of  the  time  while  you  are  dressing, 
without  incurring  the  punishment;  but  the  way  to  cure 
you  is  to  make  it  sure  that  you  will  have  the  punishment 
to  bear  if  you  play  at  all." 

So  it  was  decided  to  allow  only  half  an  hour  for  the 
dressing- time. 

Egbert's  mother  said  she  was  a  little  afraid  about  the 
one  lump  of  sugar  that  was  left  to  him  when  he  failed. 

"  The  plan  may  succeed,"  she  said ;  "  I  am  very  willing 
that  you  should  try  it ;  but  I  am  afraid  that  when  you  are 
tempted  to  stop  and  play  in  the  midst  of  your  dressing,  you 
will  say,  I  shall  have  one  lump^of  sugar,  at  any  rate,  and 
so  will  yield  to  the  temptation.  So  perhaps  it  would  be 
safer  for  you  to  make  the  rule  that  you  are  not  to  have  any 
sugar  at  all  when  you  fail.  Still,  perhaps  your  plan  will  suc 
ceed.  You  can  try  it  and  see.  I  should  wish  myself  to  have 
the  punishment  as  slight  as  possible  to  produce  the  effect." 

By  such  management  as  this,  it  is  plain  that  Egbert  is 
brought  into  actual  co-operation  with  his  mother  in  the  in 
fliction  of  a  punishment  to  cure  him  of  a  fault.  It  is  true, 
that  making  such  an  arrangement  as  this,  and  then  leaving 
it  to  its  own  working,  would  lead  to  no  result.  As  in  the 
case  of  all  other  plans  and  methods,  it  must  be  strictly, 
firmly,  and  perseveringiy  followed  up  by  the  watchful  effi 
ciency  of  the  mother.  We  can  not  substitute  the  action  of 
the  child  for  that  of  the  parent  in  the  work  of  early  train- 
Ing,  but  we  can  often  derive  very  great  advantage  by  se 
curing  his  co-operation. 


73  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

Playful  Punishments. 

So  true  is  it  that  the  efficacy  of  any  mode  of  punishment 
consists  in  the  certainty  of  its  infliction,  that  even  playful 
punishments  are  in  many  cases  sufficient  to  accomplish  the 
cure  of  a  fault.  George,  for  example,  was  in  the  habit  of 
continually  getting  into  disputes  and  mild  quarrels  with 
his  sister  Amelia,  a  year  or  two  younger  than  himself.  "  I 
know  it  is  very  foolish,"  he  said  to  his  mother,  when  she 
was  talking  with  him  on  the  subject  one  evening  after  he 
had  gone  to  bed,  and  she  had  been  telling  him  a  story,  and 
his  mind  was  in  a  calm  and  tranquil  state.  "It  is  very 
foolish,  but  somehow  I  can't  help  it.  I  forget." 

"  Then  you  must  have  some  punishment  to  make  you  re 
member,"  said  his  mother. 

"  But  sometimes  she  is  the  one  to  blame,"  said  George, 
"  and  then  she  must  have  the  punishment." 

"  No,"  replied  his  mother.  "  When  a  lady  and  a  gentle 
man  become  involved  in  a  dispute  in  polite  society,  it  is  al 
ways  the  gentleman  that  must  be  considered  to  be  to  blame." 

"  But  Amelia  and  I  are  not  polite  society,"  said  George. 

"You  ought  to  be,"  said  his  mother.  "At  any  rate, 
when  you,  an  older  brother,  get  into  disputes  with  your 
sister,  it  is  because  you  have  not  sense  enough  to  manage 
so  as  to  avoid  them.  If  you  were  a  little  older  and  wiser 
you  would  have  sense  enough." 

"  Well,  mother,  what  shall  the  punishment  be  ?"  said 
George. 

"  Would  you  really  like  to  have  a  punishment,  so  as  to 
cure  yourself  of  the  fault  ?"  asked  his  mother. 

George  said  that  he  would  like  one. 

"  Then,"  said  his  mother, "  I  propose  that  every  time  you 
get  into  a  dispute  with  Amelia,  you  turn  your  jacket  wrong 
side  out,  and  wear  it  so  a  little  while  as  a  symbol  of  folly." 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PUNISHMENT.  73 

George  laughed  heartily  at  this  idea,  and  said  he  should 
like  such  a  punishment  as  that  very  much.  It  would  only 
be  fun  he  said.  His  mother  explained  to  him  that  it  would 
be  fun,  perhaps,  two  or  three  times,  but  after  that  it  would 
only  be  a  trouble ;  but  still,  if  they  decided  upon  that  as 
a  punishment,  he  must  submit  to  it  in  every  case.  Every 
time  he  found  himself  getting  into  any  dispute  or  difficulty 
with  his  sister,  he  must  stop  at  once  and  turn  his  jacket 
inside  out ;  and  if  he  did  not  himself  think  to  do  this,  she 
herself,  if  she  was  within  hearing,  would  simply  say,  "  Jack 
et  !"  and  then  he  must  do  it. 

"No  matter  which  of  us  is  most  to  blame?"  asked 
George. 

"  You  will  always  be  the  one  that  is  most  to  blame,"  re 
plied  his  mother,  "  or,  at  least,  almost  always.  When  a  boy 
is  playing  with  a  sister  younger  than  himself  he  is  the  one 
that  is  most  to  blame  for  the  quarrelling.  His  sister  may  be 
to  blame  by  doing  something  wrong  in  the  first  instance; 
but  he  is  the  one  to  blame  for  allowing  it  to  lead  to  a  quar 
rel.  If  it  is  a  little  thing,  he  ought  to  yield  to  her,  and  not 
to  mind  it ;  and  if  it  is  a  great  thing,  he  ought  to  go  away 
and  leave  her,  rather  than  to  stop  and  quarrel  about  it.  So 
you  see  you  will  be  the  one  to  blame  for  the  quarrel  in  al 
most  all  cases.  There  may  possibly  be  some  cases  where 
you  will  not  be  to  blame  at  all,  and  then  you  will  have  to 
be  punished  when  you  don't  deserve  it,  and  you  must  bear 
it  like  a  man.  This  is  a  liability  that  happens  under  all 
systems. 

"  We  will  try  the  plan  for  one  fortnight,"  she  continued. 
"  So  now  remember,  every  single  time  that  I  hear  you  dis 
puting  or  quarrelling  with  Amelia  you  must  take  off  your 
jacket  and  put  it  on  again  wrong  side  out  —  no  matter 
whether  you  think  you  were  to  blame  or  not — and  wear  it 
so  a  few  minutes.  You  can  wear  it  so  for  a  longer  or 

D 


74  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

shorter  time,  just  as  you  think  is  best  to  make  the  punish 
ment  effectual  in  curing  you  of  the  fault.  By  the  end  of 
the  fortnight  we  shall  be  able  to  see  whether  the  plan  is 
working  well  and  doing  any  good. 

"  So  now,"  continued  his  mother,  "  shut  up  your  eyes 
and  go  to  sleep.  You  are  a  good  boy  to  wish  to  cure  your 
self  of  such  faults,  and  to  be  willing  to  help  me  in  contriv 
ing  ways  to  do  it.  And  I  have  no  doubt  that  you  will  sub 
mit  to  this  punishment  good-naturedly  every  time,  and  not 
make  me  any  trouble  about  it." 

Let  it  be  remembered,  now,  that  the  efiicacy  of  such  man 
agement  as  this  consists  not  in  the  devising  of  it,  nor  in 
holding  such  a  conversation  as  the  above  with  the  boy — 
salutary  as  this  might  be  —  but  in  the  faithfulness  and 
strictness  with  which  it  is  followed  up  during  the  fortnight 
of  trial. 

In  the  case  in  question,  the  progress  which  George  made 
in  diminishing  his  tendency  to  get  into  disputes  with  his 
sister  was  so  great  that  his  mother  told  him,  at  the  end  of 
the  first  fortnight,  that  their  plan  had  succeeded  "  admira 
bly" — so  much  so,  she  said,  that  she  thought  the  punish 
ment  of  taking  off  his  jacket  and  turning  it  inside  out 
would  be  for  the  future  unnecessarily  severe,  and  she  pro 
posed  to  substitute  for  it  taking  off  his  cap,  and  putting  it 
on  wrong  side  before. 

The  reader  will,  of  course,  understand  that  the  object  of 
such  an  illustration  as  this  is  not  to  recommend  the  partic 
ular  measure  here  described  for  adoption  in  other  cases,  but 
to  illustrate  the  spirit  and  temper  of  mind  in  which  all  meas 
ures  adopted  by  the  mother  in  the  training-  of  her  children 
should  be  carried  into  effect.  Measures  that  involve  no 
threats,  no  scolding,  no  angry  manifestations  of  displeasure, 
but  are  even  playful  in  their  character,  may  be  very  efficient 
in  action  if  they  are  firmly  and  perseveringly  maintained. 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PUNISHMENT.  75 

Punishments  that  are  the  Natural  Consequence  of  the 
Offense. 

There  is  great  advantage  in  adapting  the  character  of 
the  punishment  to  that  of  the  fault — making  it,  as  far  as 
possible,  the  natural  and  proper  consequence  of  it.  For  in 
stance,  if  the  boys  of  a  school  do  not  come  in  promptly  at 
the  close  of  the  twenty  minutes'  recess,  but  waste  five  min 
utes  by  their  dilatoriness  in  obeying  the  summons  of  the 
bell,  and  the  teacher  keeps  them  iorfive  minutes  beyond  the 
usual  hour  of  dismissal,  to  make  up  for  the  lost  time,  the 
punishment  may  be  felt  by  them  to  be  deserved,  and  it  may 
have  a  good  effect  in  diminishing  the  evil  it  is  intended  to 
remedy;  but  it  will  probably  excite  a  considerable  degree 
of  mental  irritation,  if  not  of  resentment,  on  the  part  of  the 
children,  which  will  diminish  the  good  effect,  or  is,  at  any 
rate,  an  evil  which  is  to  be  avoided  if  possible. 

If  now,  on  the  other  hand,  he  assigns  precisely  the  same 
penalty  in  another  form,  the  whole  of  the  good  effect  may 
be  secured  without  the  evil.  Suppose  he  addresses  the  boys 
just  before  they  are  to  go  out  at  the  next  recess,  as  follows : 

"  I  think,  boys,  that  twenty  minutes  is  about  the  right 
length  of  time  for  the  recess,  all  told — that  is,  from  the  time 
you  go  out  to  the  time  when  you  are  all  back  in  your  seats 
again,  quiet  and  ready  to  resume  your  studies.  I  found 
yesterday  that  it  took  five  minutes  for  you  all  to  come  in — 
that  is,  that  it  was  five  minutes  from  the  time  the  bell  was 
rung  before  all  were  in  their  seats ;  and  to-day  I  shall  ring 
the  bell  after  fifteen  minutes,  so  as  to  give  you  time  to 
come  in.  If  I  find  to-day  that  it  takes  ten  minutes,  then  I 
will  give  you  more  time  to  come  in  to-morrow,  by  ringing 
the  bell  after  you  have  been  out  ten  minutes. 

"I  am  sorry  to  have  you  lose  so  much  of  your  recess, 
and  if  you  can  make  the  time  for  coming  in  shorter,  then, 


ft}  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

of  course,  your  recess  can  be  longer.  I  should  not  won 
der  if,  after  a  few  trials,  you  should  find  that  you  could  all 
come  in  and  get  into  your  places  in  one  minute  ;  and  if  so, 
I  shall  be  very  glad,  for  then  you  can  have  an  uninterrupt 
ed  recess  of  nineteen  minutes,  which  will  be  a  great  gain." 
Every  one  who  has  had  any  considerable  experience  in 
the  management  of  boys  will  readily  understand  how  dif 
ferent  the  effect  of  this  measure  will  be  from  that  of  the 
other,  while  yet  the  penalty  is  in  both  cases  precisely  the 
same  —  namely,  the  loss,  for  the  boys,  of  five  minutes  of 
their  play. 

The  Little  Runaway. 

In  the  same  manner,  where  a  child  three  or  four  years 
old  was  in  the  habit,  when  allowed  to  go  out  by  himself  in 
the  yard  to  play,  of  running  off  into  the  street,  a  very  ap 
propriate  punishment  would  be  to  require  him,  for  the  re 
mainder  of  the  day,  to  stay  in  the  house  and  keep  in  sight 
of  his  mother,  on  the  ground  that  it  was  not  safe  to  trust 
him  by  himself  in  the  yard.  This  would  be  much  better 
than  sending  him  to  bed  an  hour  earlier,  or  subjecting  him 
to  any  other  inconvenience  or  privation  having  no  obvious 
connection  with  the  fault.  For  it  is  of  the  greatest  impor 
tance  to  avoid,  by  every  means,  the  exciting  of  feelings  of 
irritation  and  resentment  in  the  mind  of  the  child,  so  far  as 
it  is  possible  to  do  this  without  impairing  the  efficiency  of 
the  punishment.  It  is  not  always  possible  to  do  this.  The 
efficiency  of  the  punishment  is,  of  course,  the  essential  thing ; 
but  parents  and  teachers  who  turn  their  attention  to  the 
point  will  find  that  it  is  much  less  difficult  than  one  would 
suppose  to  secure  this  end  completely  without  producing 
the  too  frequent  accompaniments  of  punishment — anger, 
ill-temper,  and  ill-will. 

In  the  case,  for  example,  of  the  child  not  allowed  to  go 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PUNISHMENT.  79 

out  into  the  yard,  but  required  to  remain  in  the  house  in 
sight  of  his  mother,  the  mother  should  not  try  to  make  the 
punishment  more  heavy  by  speaking  again  and  again  of 
his  fault,  and  evincing  her  displeasure  by  trying  to  make 
the  confinement  as  irksome  to  the  child  as  possible;  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  should  do  all  in  her  power  to  alleviate 
it.  "  I  am  very  sorry,"  she  might  say,  "  to  have  to  keep 
you  in  the  house.  It  would  be  much  pleasanter  for  you  to 
go  out  and  play  in  the  yard,  if  it  was  only  safe.  I  don't 
blame  you  very  much  for  running  away.  It  is  what  fool 
ish  little  children,  as  little  as  you,  very  often  do.  I  sup 
pose  you  thought  it  would  be  good  fun  to  run  out  a  little 
way  in  the  street.  And  it  is  good  fun;  but  it  is  not  safe. 
By-and-by,  when  you  grow  a  little  larger,  you  won't  be  so 
foolish,  and  then  I  can  trust  you  in  the  yard  at  any  time 
without  having  to  watch  you  at  all.  And  now  what  can  I 
get  for  you  to  amuse  you  while  you  stay  in  the  house  with 
me?" 

Punishment  coming  in  this  way,  and  administered  in  this 
spirit,  will  irritate  the  mind  and  injure  the  temper  compar 
atively  little ;  and,  instead  of  being  less,  will  be  much  more 
effective  in  accomplishing  the  right  Idnd  of  cure  for  the 
fault,  than  any  stern,  severe,  and  vindictive  retribution  can 
possibly  be. 

The  Question  of  Corporal  Punishment. 
The  question  of  resorting  to  corporal  punishment  in  the 
training  of  the  young  has  been  much,  very  much,  argued 
and  discussed  on  both  sides  by  writers  on  education;  but 
it  seems  to  me  to  be  mainly  a  question  of  competency  and 
skill.  If  the  parent  or  teacher  has  tact  or  skill  enough, 
and  practical  knowledge  enough  of  the  workings  of  the 
youthful  mind,  he  can  gain  all  the  necessary  ascendency 
over  it  without  resort  to  the  violent  infliction  of  bodily 


80  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

pain  in  any  form.  If  he  has  not  these  qualities,  then  he 
must  turn  to  the  next  best  means  at  his  disposal ;  for  it  is 
better  that  a  child  should  be  trained  and  governed  by  the 
rod  than  not  trained  and  governed  at  all.  I  do  not  sup 
pose  that  savages  could  possibly  control  their  children 
without  blows;  while,  on  the  other  hand, Maria  Edgeworth 
would  have  brought  under  complete  submission  to  her 
will  a  family  of  the  most  ardent  and  impulsive  juveniles, 
perhaps  without  even  a  harsh  word  or  a  frown.  If  a 
mother  begins  with  children  at  the  beginning,  is  just  and 
true  in  all  her  dealings  with  them,  gentle  in  manner,  but 
inflexibly  firm  in  act,  and  looks  constantly  for  Divine  guid 
ance  and  aid  in  her  conscientious  efforts  to  do  her  duty,  I 
feel  quite  confident  that  it  will  never  be  necessary  for  her 
to  strike  them.  The  necessity  may,  however,  sooner  or 
later  come,  for  aught  I  know,  in  the  case  of  those  who  act 
on  the  contrary  principle.  Under  such  management,  the 
rod  may  come  to  be  the  only  alternative  to  absolute  nn- 
manageableness  and  anarchy. 

There  will  be  occasion,  ho\vever,  to  refer  to  this  subject 
more  fully  in  a  future  chapter. 


REWARDING   OBEDIENCE.  81 


CHAPTER  VI. 
REWARDING  OBEDIENCE. 

THE  mode  of  action  described  in  the  last  two  chapters 
for  training  children  to  habits  of  obedience  consisted  in 
discouraging  disobedience  by  connecting  some  certain, 
though  mild  and  gentle  disadvantage,  inconvenience,  or 
penalty,  with  every  transgression.  In  this  chapter  is  to 
be  considered  another  mode,  which  is  in  some  respects  the 
converse  of  the  first,  inasmuch  as  it  consists  in  the  encour 
agement  of  obedience,  by  often — not  necessarily  always — 
connecting  with  it  some  advantage,  or  gain,  or  pleasure ; 
or,  as  it  may  be  stated  summarily,  the  cautious  encourage 
ment  of  obedience  by  rewards. 

This  method  of  action  is  more  difficult  than  the  other  in 
the  sense  that  it  requires  more  skill,  tact,  and  delicacy  of 
perception  and  discrimination  to  carry  it  successfully  into 
effect.  The  other  demands  only  firm,  but  gentle  and  steady 
persistence.  If  the  penalty,  however  slight  it  may  be,  al 
ways  comes,  the  effect  will  take  care  of  itself.  But  judi 
ciously  to  administer  a  system  of  rewards,  or  even  of  com 
mendations,  requires  tact,  discrimination,  and  skill.  It  re 
quires  some  observation  of  the  peculiar  characteristics  of 
the  different  minds  acted  upon,  and  of  the  effects  produced, 
and  often  some  intelligent  modification  of  the  measures  is 
required,  to  fit  them  to  varying  circumstances  and  times. 

Obedience  must  not  be  J3ong7it. 

If  the  bestowing  of  commendation  and  rewards  is  made 
a  matter  of  mere  blind  routine,  as  the  assigning  of  gentle 

D2 


S3  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

penalties  may  be,  the  result  will  become  a  mere  system  of 
bribing,  or  rather  paying  children  to  be  good ;  and  good 
ness  that  is  bought,  if  it  deserves  the  name  of  virtue  at  all, 
is  certainly  virtue  of  a  very  inferior  quality. 

Whether  a  reward  conferred  for  obedience  shall  operate 
as  a  bribe,  or  rather  as  a  price  paid — for  a  bribe,  strictly 
speaking,  is  a  price  paid,  not  for  doing  right,  but  for  doing 
wrong — depends  sometimes  on  very  slight  differences  in 
the  management  of  the  particular  case — differences  which 
an  undiscriminating  mother  will  not  be  very  ready  to  ap 
preciate. 

A  mother,  for  example,  going  into  the  village  on  a  sum 
mer  afternoon,  leaves  her  children  playing  in  the  yard,  un 
der  the  general  charge  of  Susan,  who  is  at  work  in  the 
kitchen,  whence  she  can  observe  them  from  time  to  time 
through  the  open  window.  She  thinks  the  children  will 
be  safe,  provided  they  remain  in  the  yard.  The  only  thing 
to  be  guarded  against  is  the  danger  that  they  may  go  out 
through  the  gate  into  the  road. 

Tico  Different  Modes  of  Management. 

Under  some  circumstances,  as,  for  example,  where  the 
danger  to  which  they  would  be  exposed  in  going  into  the 
road  was  very  great,  or  where  the  mother  can  not  rely 
upon  her  power  to  control  her  children's  conduct  by  moral 
means  in  any  way,  the  only  safe  method  would  be  to  fasten 
the  gate.  But  if  she  prefers  to  depend  for  their  safety 
on  their  voluntary  obedience  to  her  commands,  and  wishes, 
moreover,  to  promote  the  spirit  of  obedience  by  rewarding 
rather  than  punishing,  she  can  make  her  rewards  of  the  na 
ture  of  hire  or  not,  according  to  her  mode  of  management. 

If  she  wishes  to  hire  obedience,  she  has  only  to  say  to 
the  children  that  she  is  going  into  the  village  for  a  little 
time,  and  that  they  may  play  in  the  yard  while  she  is  gone, 


REWARDING   OBEDIENCE.  83 

but  must  not  go  out  of  the  gate ;  adding,  that  she  is  going 
to  bring  home  some  oranges  or  candies,  which  she  will  give 
them  if  she  finds  that  they 'have  obeyed  her,  but  which  she 
will  not  give  them  if  they  have  disobeyed. 

Such  a  promise,  provided  the  children  have  the  double 
confidence  in  their  mother  which  such  a  method  requires — 
namely,  first,  a  full  belief  that  she  will  really  bring  home 
the  promised  rewards,  if  they  obey  her;  and  secondly  — 
and  this  is  a  confidence  much  less  frequently  felt  by  chil 
dren,  and  much  less  frequently  deserved  by  their  mothers 
— a  conviction  that,  in  case  they  disobey,  no  importunities 
on  their  part  or  promises  for  the  next  time  will  induce  their 
mother  to  give  them  the  good  things,  but  that  the  rewards 
will  certainly  be  lost  to  them  unless  they  are  deserved,  ac 
cording  to  the  conditions  of  the  promise — in  such  a  case — 
that  is,  when  this  double  confidence  exists,  the  promise  will 
have  great  influence  upon  the  children.  Still,  it  is,  in  its 
nature,  hiring  them  to  obey.  I  do  not  say  that  this  is  nec 
essarily  a  bad  plan,  though  I  think  there  is  a  better.  Chil 
dren  may,  perhaps,  be  trained  gradually  to  habits  of  obe 
dience  by  a  system  of  direct  rewards,  and  in  a  manner,  too, 
far  more  agreeable  to  the  parent  and  better  for  the  child 
than  by  a  system  of  compulsion  through  threats  and  pun 
ishment. 

The  Method  of  Indirect  Rewarding. 

But  there  is  another  way  of  connecting  pleasurable  ideas 
and  associations  with  submission  to  parental  authority  in 
the  minds  of  children,  as  a  means  of  alluring  them  to  the 
habit  of  obedience — one  that  is  both  more  efficient  in  its 
results  and  more  healthful  and  salutary  in  its  action  than 
the  practice  of  bestowing  direct  recompenses  and  rewards. 

Suppose,  for  example,  in  the  case  above  described,  the 
saother,  on  leaving  the  children,  simply  gives  them  the 


Si  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

command  that  they  arc  not  to  leave  the  yard,  but  makes 
no  promises,  and  then,  on  returning  from  the  village  with 
the  bonbons  in  her  bag,  simply  asks  Susan,  when  she  comes 
in,  whether  the  children  have  obeyed  her  injunction  not  to 
leave  the  yard.  If  Susan  says  yes,  she  nods  to  them,  with 
a  look  of  satisfaction  and  pleasure,  and  adds :  "  I  thought 
they  would  obey  me.  I  am  very  glad.  Now  I  can  trust 
them  again." 

Then,  by-and-by,  towards  the  close  of  the  day,  perhaps, 
and  when  the  children  suppose  that  the  affair  is  forgotten, 
she  takes  an  opportunity  to  call  them  to  her,  saying  that 
she  has  something  to  tell  them. 

"  You  remember  when  I  went  to  the  village  to-day  I  left 
you  in  the  yard  and  said  that  you  must  not  go  out  of  the 
gate,  and  you  obeyed.  Perhaps  you  would  have  liked  to 
go  out  into  the  road  and  play  there,  but  you  would  not 
go  because  I  had  forbidden  it.  I  am  very  glad  that  you 
obeyed.  I  thought  of  you  when  I  was  in  the  village,  and  I 
thought  you  would  obey  me.  I  felt  quite  safe  about  you. 
If  you  had  been  disobedient  children,  I  should  have  felt 
uneasy  and  anxious.  But  I  felt  safe.  When  I  had  finished 
my  shopping,  I  thought  I  would  buy  you  some  bonbons, 
and  here  they  are.  You  can  go  and  sit  down  together  on 
the  carpet  and  divide  them.  Mary  can  choose  one,  and 
then  Jane;  then  Mary,  and  then  Jane  again;  and  so  on 
until  they  are  all  chosen." 

Difference  in  the  Character  of  the  Effects. 
It  may,  perhaps,  be  said  by  the  reader  that  this  is  sub 
stantially  the  same  as  giving  a  direct  reward  for  the  obe 
dience.  I  admit  that  it  is  in  some  sense  substantially  the 
same  thing,  but  it  is  not  the  same  in  form.  And  this  is 
one  of  those  cases  where  the  effect  is  modified  very  greatly 
by  the  form.  Where  children  are  directly  promised  a  re- 


REWARDING   OBEDIENCE.  85 

ward  if  they  do  so  and  so,  they  naturally  regard  the  trans 
action  as  of  the  nature  of  a  contract  or  a  bargain,  such  that 
when  they  have  fulfilled  the  conditions  on  their  part  the 
reward  is  their  due,  as,  indeed,  it  really  is ;  and  they  come 
and  demand  it  as  such.  The  tendency,  then,  is,  to  divest 
their  minds  of  all  sense  of  obligation  in  respect  to  doing 
right,  and  to  make  them  feel  that  it  is  in  some  sense  op 
tional  with  them  whether  to  do  right  and  earn  the  reward, 
or  not  to  do  right  and  lose  it. 

In  the  case,  however,  last  described,  which  seems  at  first 
view  to  differ  only  in  form  from  the  preceding  one,  the 
commendation  and  the  bonbons  would  be  so  connected 
with  the  act  of  obedience  as  to  associate  very  agreeable 
ideas  with  it  in  the  children's  minds,  and  thus  to  make 
doing  right  appear  attractive  to  them  on  future  occasions, 
while,  at  the  same  time,  they  would  not  in  any  degree  de 
prive  the  act  itself  of  its  spontaneous  character,  as  resulting 
from  a  sense  of  duty  on  their  part,  or  produce  the  impres 
sion  on  their  minds  that  their  remaining  within  the  gate 
ivas  of  the  nature  of  a  service  rendered  to  their  mother  for 
hire,  and  afterwards  duly  paid  for. 

The  lesson  which  we  deduce  from  this  illustration  and 
the  considerations  connected  with  it  may  be  stated  as  fol 
lows: 

The  General  Principle. 

That  the  rewards  conferred  upon  children  with  a  view 
of  connecting  pleasurable  ideas  and  associations  with  good 
conduct  should  not  take  the  form  of  compensations  stip 
ulated  for  beforehand,  and  then  conferred  according  to 
agreement,  as  if  they  were  of  the  nature  of  payment  for  a 
service  rendered,  but  should  come  as  the  natural  expres 
sion  of  the  satisfaction  and  happiness  felt  by  the  mother 
in  the  good  conduct  of  her  child— expressions  as  free  and 


80  GENTLE  ATEASUIIES. 

spontaneous  on  her  part  as  the  good  conduct  was  on  the 
part  of  the  child. 

The  mother  who  understands  the  full  import  of  this 
principle,  and  whose  mind  becomes  fully  possessed  of  it, 
will  find  it  constantly  coming  into  practical  use  in  a  thou 
sand  ways.  She  has  undertaken,  for  example,  to  teach  her 
little  son  to  read.  Of  course  learning  to  read  is  irksome 
to  him.  He  dislikes  extremely  to  leave  his  play  and  come 
to  take  his  lesson.  Sometimes  a  mother  is  inconsiderate 
enough  to  be  pained  at  this.  She  is  troubled  to  find  that 
her  boy  takes  so  little  interest  in  so  useful  a  work,  and 
even,  perhaps,  scolds  him,  and  threatens  him  for  not  loving 
study.  "  If  you  don't  learn  to  read,"  she  says  to  him,  in 
a  tone  of  irritation  and  displeasure,  "  you  will  grow  up  a 
dunce,  and  every  body  will  laugh  at  you,  and  you  will  bo 
ashamed  to  be  seen." 

Children's  Difficulties. 

But  let  her  imagine  that  she  herself  was  to  be  called 
away  two  or  three  times  a  day,  for  half  an  hour,  to  study 
ChinesCj  with  a  very  exacting  teacher,  always  more  or  less 
impatient  and  dissatisfied  with  her  progress ;  and  yet  the 
irksomeness  and  difficulty  for  the  mother,  in  learning  to 
decipher  Chinese,  would  be  as  nothing  compared  with  that 
of  the  child  in  learning  to  read.  The  only  thing  that  could 
make  the  work  even  tolerable  to  the  mother  would  be  a 
pretty  near,  distinct,  and  certain  prospect  of  going  to  Chi 
na  under  circumstances  that  would  make  the  knowledge 
of  great  advantage  to  her.  But  the  child  has  no  such  near, 
distinct,  and  certain  prospect  of  the  advantages  of  knowing 
how  to  read.  He  has  scarcely  any  idea  of  these  advantages 
at  all.  You  can  describe  them  to  him,  but  the  description 
will  have  no  perceptible  effect  upon  his  mind.  Those  fac 
ulties  by  which  we  bring  the  future  vividly  before  us  so  as 


REWARDING   OBEDIENCE.  8? 

to  influence  our  present  action,  are  not  yet  developed.  His 
cerebral  organization  hrs  not  yet  advanced  to  that  condi 
tion,  any  more  than  his  bones  have  advanced  to  the  hard 
ness,  rigidness,  and  strength  of  manhood.  His  mind  is  only 
capable  of  being  influenced  strongly  by  what  is  present,  or, 
at  least,  very  near.  It  is  the  design  of  Divine  Providence 
that  this  should  be  so.  The  child  is  not  made  to  look  for 
ward  much  yet,  and  the  mother  who  is  pained  and  distress 
ed  because  he  will  not  look  forward,  shows  a  great  igno 
rance  of  the  nature  of  the  infantile  rnind,  and  of  the  man 
ner  of  its  development.  If  she  finds  fault  with  her  boy 
for  not  feeling  distinctly  enough  the  future  advantages  of 
learning  to  lead  him  to  love  study  now,  she  is  simply  find 
ing  fault  with  a  boy  for  not  being  possessed  of  the  most 
slowly  developed  faculties  of  a  man. 

The  way,  then,  to  induce  children  to  attend  to  such  duties 
as  learning  to  read,  is  not  to  reason  with  them  on  the  ad 
vantages  of  it,  but  to  put  it  simply  on  the  ground  of  au 
thority.  "  It  is  very  irksome,  I  know,  but  you  must  do  it. 
When  you  are  at  play,  and  having  a  very  pleasant  time,  I 
know  very  well  that  it  is  hard  for  you  to  be  called  away  to 
puzzle  over  your  letters  and  your  reading.  It  was  very 
hard  for  me  when  I  was  a  child.  It  is  very  hard  for  all 
children ;  but  then  it  must  be  done." 

The  way  in  this,  as  in  all  other  similar  cases,  to  reduce 
the  irksomeness  of  disagreeable  duties  to  a  minimum  is 
not  to  attempt  to  convince  or  persuade  the  child,  but  to 
put  the  performance  of  them  simply  on  the  ground  of  sub 
mission  to  authority.  The  child  must  leave  his  play  and 
come  to  take  his  lesson,  not  because  he  sees  that  it  is  bet 
ter  for  him  to  learn  to  read  than  to  play  all  the  time,  nor 
because  he  is  to  receive  a  reward  in  the  form  of  compensa 
tion,  but  because  his  mother  requires  him  to  do  it. 


88  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

Indirect  Rewarding. 

If,  therefore,  she  concludes,  in  order  to  connect  agreeable 
ideas  with  the  hard  work  of  learning  to  read,  that  she  will 
often,  at  the  close  of  the  lessons,  tell  him  a  little  story,  or 
show  him  a  picture,  or  have  a  frolic  with  him,  or  give  him 
a  piece  of  candy  or  a  lump  of  sugar,  or  bestow  upon  him 
any  other  little  gratification,  it  is  better  not  to  promise 
these  things  beforehand,  so  as  to  give  to  the  coming  of  the 
child,  when  called,  the  character  of  a  service  rendered  for 
hire.  Let  him  corne  simply  because  he  is  called;  and  then 
let  the  gratifications  be  bestowed  as  the  expressions  of  his 
mother's  satisfaction  and  happiness,  in  view  of  her  boy's 
ready  obedience  to  her  commands  and  faithful  perform 
ance  of  his  duty. 

Obedience,  though  Implicit^  need  not  be  Blind. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  from  what  has  been  said  that 
because  a  mother  is  not  to  rely  upon  the  reason  and  fore 
cast  of  the  child  in  respect  to  future  advantages  to  accrue 
from  efforts  or  sacrifices  as  motives  of  present  action,  that 
she  is  not  to  employ  the  influence  of  these  motives  at  all. 
It  is  true  that  those  faculties  of  the  mind  by  which  we  ap 
prehend  distant  things  and  govern  our  conduct  by  them 
are  not  yet  developed  in  the  child ;  but  they  are  to  be  de 
veloped,  and  the  aid  of  the  parent  will  be  of  the  greatest 
service  in  promoting  the  development  of  them.  At  proper 
times,  then,  the  pleasures  and  advantages  of  knowing  how 
to  read  should  be  described  to  the  child,  and  presented 
moreover  in  the  most  attractive  form.  The  proper  time 
for  doing  this  would  be  when  no  lesson  is  in  question — 
during  a  ride  or  a  walk,  or  in  the  midst  of  a  story,  or 
while  looking  at  a  book  of  pictures.  A  most  improper 
time  would  be  when  a  command  had  been  given  and  was 


REWARDING  OBEDIENCE.  83 

disregarded,  or  was  reluctantly  obeyed ;  for  then  such  rep 
resentations  would  only  tend  to  enfeeble  the  principle  of 
authority  by  bringing  in  the  influence  of  reasonings  and 
persuasions  to  make  up  for  its  acknowledged  inefficiency. 
It  is  one  of  those  cases  where  a  force  is  weakened  by  rein 
forcement — as  a  plant,  by  being  long  held  up  by  a  stake, 
comes  in  the  end  not  to  be  able  to  stand  alone. 

So  a  mother  can  not  in  any  way  more  effectually  under 
mine  her  authority,  as  authority ^  than  by  attempting  to  eke 
out  its  force  by  arguments  and  coaxings. 

Authority  not  to  be  made  Oppressive. 

While  the  parent  must  thus  take  care  to  establish  the 
principle  of  authority  as  the  ground  of  obedience  on  the 
part  of  his  children,  and  must  not  make  their  doing  what 
he  requires  any  the  less  acts  of  obedience,  through  vainly 
attempting  to  diminish  the  hardship  of  obeying  a  command 
by  mingling  the  influence  of  reasonings  and  persuasions 
with  it,  he  may  in  other  ways  do  all  in  his  power  —  and 
that  will  be  a  great  deal — to  make  the  acts  of  obedience 
easy,  or,  at  least,  to  diminish  the  difficulty  of  them  and  the 
severity  of  the  trial  which  they  often  bring  to  the  child. 

One  mode  by  which  this  may  be  done  is  by  not  spring 
ing  disagreeable  obligations  upon  a  child  suddenly,  but  by 
giving  his  mind  a  little  time  to  form  itself  to  the  idea  of 
what  is  to  come.  When  Johnny  and  Mary  are  playing  to 
gether  happily  with  their  blocks  upon  the  floor,  and  are, 
perhaps,  just  completing  a  tower  which  they  have  been 
building,  if  their  mother  comes  suddenly  into  the  room,  an 
nounces  to  them  abruptly  that  it  is  time  for  them  to  go  to 
bed,  throws  down  the  tower  and  brushes  the  blocks  into 
the  basket,  and  then  hurries  the  children  away  to  the  un 
dressing,  she  gives  a  sudden  and  painful  shock  to  their 
whole  nervous  system,  and  greatly  increases  the  disappoint- 


DO  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

incnt  and  pain  which  they  experience  in  being  obliged  to 
give  up  their  play.  The  delay  of  a  single  minute  would  be 
sufficient  to  bring  their  minds  round  easily  and  gently  into 
submission  to  the  necessity  of  the  case.  If  she  comes  to 
them  with  a  smile,  looks  upon  their  work  a  moment  with 
an  expression  of  interest  and  pleasure  upon  her  counte 
nance,  and  then  says, 

"It  is  bed-time, children,  but  I  would  like  to  see  you  fin 
ish  your  tower." 

One  minute  of  delay  like  this,  to  soften  the  suddenness 
of  the  transition,  will  make  the  act  of  submission  to  the 
necessity  of  giving  up  play  and  going  to  bed,  in  obedience 
to  the  mother's  command,  comparatively  easy,  instead  of 
being,  as  it  very  likely  would  otherwise  have  been,  extreme 
ly  vexatious  and  painful. 

Give  a  Little  Time. 

In  the  same  way,  in  bringing  to  a  close  an  evening  party 
of  children  at  play,  if  the  lady  of  the  house  comes  a  little 
before  the  time  and  says  to  them  that  after  "  one  more 
play,"  or  "  two  more  plays,"  as  the  case  may  be,  "  the  party 
must  come  to  an  end,"  the  closing  of  it  would  be  made 
easy ;  while  by  waiting  till  the  hour  had  come,  and  then 
suddenly  interrupting  the  gayety,  perhaps  in  the  middle  of 
a  game,  by  the  abrupt  announcement  to  the  children  that 
the  clock  has  struck,  and  they  must  stop  their  plays  and  be 
gin  to  get  ready  to  go  home,  she  brings  upon  them  a  sud 
den  shock  of  painful  surprise,  disappointment,  and,  perhaps, 
irritation. 

So,  if  children  .are  to  be  called  away  from  their  play  for 
any  purpose  whatever,  it  is  always  best  to  give  them  a  lit 
tle  notice,  if  it  be  only  a  moment's  notice,  beforehand. 
"  John,  in  a  minute  or  two  I  shall  wish  you  to  go  and  get 
some  wood.  You  can  be  getting  your  things  ready  to  be 


REWARDING  OBEDIENCE.  «)1 

left."  "Mary,  it  is  almost  time  for  your  lesson.  You 
had  better  put  Dolly  to  sleep  and  lay  her  in  the  cradle." 
"Boys,  in  ten  minutes  it  will  be  time  for  you  to  go  to 
school.  So  do  not  begin  any  new  whistles,  but  only  finish 
what  you  have  begun." 

On  the  same  principle,  if  boys  are  at  play  in  the  open  air 
—at  ball,  or  skating,  or  flying  kites — and  are  to  be  recalled 
by  a  bell,  obedience  to  the  call  will  be  made  much  more 
easy  to  them  by  a  preliminary  signal,  as  a  warning,  given 
five  minutes  before  the  time. 

Of  course,  it  will  not  always  be  convenient  to  give  these 
signals  and  these  times  of  preparation.  Nor  will  it  bo  al 
ways  necessary  to  give  them.  To  determine  how  and  in 
what  cases  it  is  best  to  apply  the  principle  here  explained 
will  require  some  tact  and  good  judgment  on  the  part  of 
the  parent.  It  wrould  be  folly  to  lay  down  a  rigid  rule  of 
this  kind  to  be  considered  as  always  obligatory.  All  that 
is  desirable  is  that  the  mother  should  understand  the  prin 
ciple,  and  that  she  should  apply  it  as  far  as  she  convenient 
ly  and  easily  can  do  so.  She  will  find  in  practice  that  when 
she  once  appreciates  the  value  of  it,  and  observes  its  kind 
and  beneficent  wrorking,  she  will  find  it  convenient  and  easy 
to  apply  it  far  more  generally  than  she  would  suppose. 

No  weakening  of  Authority  in  this. 
It  is  very  plain  that  softening  thus  the  hardship  for  the 
child  of  any  act  of  obedience  required  of  him  by  giving 
him  a  little  time  implies  no  abatement  of  the  authority  of 
the  parent,  nor  does  it  detract  at  all  from  the  implicitness 
of  the  obedience  on  the  part  of  the  child.  The  submission 
to  authority  is  as  complete  in  doing  a  thing  in  five  minutes 
if  the  order  was  to  do  it  in  five  minutes,  as  in  doing  it  at 
once  if  the  order  was  to  do  it  at  once.  And  the  mother 
must  take  great  care,  when  thus  trying  to  make  obedience 


93  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

more  easy  by  allowing  time,  that  it  should  be  prompt  and 
absolute  when  the  time  has  expired. 

The  idea  is,  that  though  the  parent  is  bound  fully  to 
maintain  his  authority  over  his  children,  in  all  its  force,  he 
is  also  bound  to  make  the  exercise  of  it  as  little  irksome 
and  painful  to  them  as  possible,  and  to  prevent  as  much  as 
possible  the  pressure  of  it  from  encroaching  upon  their  ju 
venile  joys.  lie  must  insist  inexorably  on  being  obeyed ; 
but  he  is  bound  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  make  the  yoke  of 
obedience  light  and  easily  to  be  borne. 

Influence  on  the  healthful  Development  of  the  Drain. 

Indeed,  besides  the  bearing  of  these  views  on  the  happi 
ness  of  the  children,  it  is  not  at  all  improbable  that  the 
question  of  health  may  be  seriously  involved  in  them.  For, 
howTever  certain  we  may  be  of  the  immateriality  of  the 
soul  in  its  essence,  it  is  a  perfectly  well  established  fact 
that  all  its  operations  and  functions,  as  an  animating  spirit 
in  the  human  body,  are  fulfilled  through  the  workings  of 
material  organs  in  the  brain ;  that  these  organs  are  in 
childhood  in  an  exceedingly  immature,  tender,  and  delicate 
condition  ;  and  that  all  sudden,  sharp,  and,  especially,  pain 
ful  emotions,  greatly  excite,  and  sometimes  cruelly  irritate 
them. 

When  we  consider  how  seriously  the  action  of  the  di 
gestive  organs,  in  persons  in  an  ordinary  state  of  health,  is 
often  interfered  with  by  mental  anxiety  or  distress;  how 
frequently,  in  persons  subject  to  headaches,  the  paroxysm  is 
brought  on  by  worryings  or  perplexities  endured  incident 
ally  on  the  preceding  day ;  and  especially  how  often  violent 
and  painful  emotions,  when  they  are  extreme,  result  in  de 
cided  and  sometimes  in  permanent  and  hopeless  insanity— 
that  is,  in  an  irreparable  damage  to  some  delicate  mechan- 
ism  in  the  brain — we  shall  see  that  there  is  every  reason  for 


UEWAIWING  OBEDIENCE.  03 

supposing  that  all  sudden  shocks  to  the  nervous  system  of 
children,  all  violent  and  painful  excitements,  all  vexations 
and  irritations,  and  ebullitions  of  ill-temper  and  anger,  have 
a  tendency  to  disturb  the  healthy  development  of  the  cere 
bral  organs,  and  may,  in  many  cases,  seriously  affect  the  fu 
ture  health  and  welfare,  as  well  as  the  present  happiness,  of 
the  child. 

It  is  true  that  mental  disturbances  and  agitations  of  this 
kind  can  not  be  wholly  avoided.  But  they  should  be 
avoided  as  far  as  possible;  and  the  most  efficient  means 
for  avoiding  them  is  a  firm,  though  calm  and  gentle,  estab 
lishment  and  maintenance  of  parental  authority,  and  not, 
as  many  mothers  very  mistakingly  imagine,  by  unreason 
able  indulgences,  and  by  endeavors  to  manage  their  chil 
dren  by  persuasions,  bribings,  and  manoeuvrings,  instead  of 
by  commands.  The  most  indulged  children,  and  the  least 
governed,  are  always  the  most  petulant  and  irritable ;  while 
a  strong  government,  if  regular,  uniform,  and  just,  and  if 
administered  by  gentle  measures,  is  the  most  effectual  of 
all  possible  instrumentalities  for  surrounding  childhood 
with  an  atmosphere  of  calmness  and  peace. 

In  a  word,  while  the  mother  is  bound  to  do  all  in  her 
power  to  render  submission  to  her  authority  easy  and 
agreeable  to  her  children,  by  softening  as  much  as  possible 
the  disappointment  and  hardship  which  her  commands 
sometimes  occasion,  and  by  connecting  pleasurable  ideas 
and  sensations  with  acts  of  obedience  on  the  part  of  the 
child,  she  must  not  at  all  relax  the  authority  itself,  but 
must  maintain  it  under  all  circumstances  in  its  full  force, 
with  a  very  firm  and  decided,  though  still  gentle  hand. 


91  GENTLE  MEASURES. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  ART  OF  TRAINING. 

IT  is  very  clear  that  the  most  simple  and  the  most  obvi 
ous  of  the  modes  by  which  a  parent  may  establish  among 
his  children  the  habit  of  submission  to  his  authority,  are 
those  which  have  been  already  described,  namely,  punish 
ments  and  rewards — punishments,  gentle  in  their  character, 
but  invariably  enforced,  as  the  sure  results  oi  acts  of  in 
subordination  ;  and  rewards  for  obedience,  occasionally  and 
cautiously  bestowed,  in  such  a  manner  that  they  may  be 
regarded  as  recognitions  simply,  on  the  part  of  the  parent, 
of  the  good  conduct  of  his  children,  and  expressions  of  his 
gratification,  and  not  in  the  light  of  payment  or  hire. 
These  are  obviously  the  most  simple  modes,  and  the  ones 
most  ready  at  hand.  They  require  no  exalted  or  unusual 
qualities  on  the  part  of  father  or  mother,  unless,  indeed, 
we  consider  gentleness,  combined  with  firmness  and  good 
sense,  as  an  assemblage  of  rare  and  exalted  qualities.  To 
assign,  and  firmly  and  uniformly  to  enforce,  just  but  gentle 
penalties  for  disobedience,  and  to  recognize,  and  sometimes 
reward,  special  acts  of  obedience  and  submission,  are  meas 
ures  fully  within  the  reach  of  every  parent,  however  hum 
ble  may  be  the  condition  of  his  intelligence  or  his  attain 
ments  of  knowledge. 

Another  Class  of  Influences. 

There  is,  however,  another  class  of  influences  to  be  adopt 
ed,  not  as  a  substitute  for  these  simple  measures,  but  in 
connection  and  co-operation  with  them,  which  will  be  far 


THE  ART  OF  TRAINING.  95 

more  deep,  powerful,  and  permanent  in  their  results,  though 
they  require  much  higher  qualities  in  the  parent  for  car 
rying  them  successfully  into  effect.  This  higher  method 
consists  in  a  systematic  effort  to  develop  in  the  mind  of 
the  child  a  love  of  the  principle  of  obedience,  by  express 
and  appropriate  training. 

Parents  not  aware  of  the  Extent  of  their  Responsibility. 
Many  parents,  perhaps  indeed  nearly  all,  seem,  as  we 
have  already  shown,  to  act  as  if  they  considered  the  duty 
of  obedience  on  the  part  of  their  children  as  a  matter  of 
course.  They  do  not  expect  their  children  to  read  or  to 
write  without  being  taught ;  they  do  not  expect  a  dog  to 
fetch  and  carry,  or  a  horse  to  draw  and  to  understand 
commands  and  signals,  without  being  trained.  In  all  these 
cases  they  perceive  the  necessity  of  training  and  instruc 
tion,  and  understand  that  the  initiative  is  with  them.  If  a 
horse,  endowed  by  nature  with  average  good  qualities,  does 
not  work  well,  the  fault  is  attributed  at  once  to  the  man 
who  undertook  to  train  him.  But  what  mother,  when  her 
child,  grown  large  and  strong,  becomes  the  trial  and  sor 
row  of  her  life  by  his  ungovernable  disobedience  and  in 
subordination,  takes  the  blame  to  herself  in  reflecting  that 
he  was  placed  in  her  hands  when  all  the  powers  and  facul 
ties  of  his  soul  were  in  embryo,  tender,  pliant,  and  unresist 
ing,  to  be  formed  and  fashioned  at  her  will  ? 

The  Spirit  of  filial  Obedience  not  Instinctive. 
Children,  as  has  already  been  remarked,  do  not  require 
to  be  taught  and  trained  to  eat  and  drink,  to  resent  inju 
ries,  to  cling  to  their  possessions,  or  to  run  to  their  mother 
in  danger  or  pain.  They  have  natural  instincts  which  pro 
vide  for  all  these  things.  But  to  speak,  to  read,  to  write, 
and  to  calculate ;  to  tell  the  truth,  and  to  obey  their  par- 


90  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

ents;  to  forgive  injuries,  to  face  bravely  fancied  dangers 
and  bear  patiently  unavoidable  pain,  arc  attainments  for 
which  no  natural  instincts  can  adequately  provide.  There 
are  instincts  that  will  aid  in  the  work,  but  none  that  can  of 
themselves  be  relied  upon  without  instruction  and  training. 
In  actual  fact,  children  usually  receive  their  instruction  and 
training  in  respect  to  some  of  these  things  incidentally — as 
it  happens — by  the  rough  knocks  and  frictions,  and  various 
painful  experiences  which  they  encounter  in  the  early  years 
of  life.  In  respect  to  others,  the  guidance  and  aid  afforded 
them  is  more  direct  and  systematic.  Unfortunately  the  es 
tablishment  in  their  minds  of  the  principle  of  obedience 
comes  ordinarily  under  the  former  category.  No  system 
atic  and  appropriate  efforts  are  made  by  the  parent  to  im 
plant  it.  It  is  left  to  the  uncertain  and  fitful  influences 
of  accident — to  remonstrances,  reproaches,  and  injunctions 
called  forth  under  sudden  excitement  in  the  various  emer 
gencies  of  domestic  discipline,  and  to  other  means,  vague, 
capricious,  and  uncertain,  and  having  no  wise  adaptedness 
to  the  attainment  of  the  end  in  view. 

Requires  appropriate  Training. 

How  much  better  and  more  successfully  the  object  would 
be  accomplished  if  the  mother  were  to  understand  distinct 
ly  at  the  outset  that  the  work  of  training  her  children  to 
the  habit  of  submission  to  her  authority  is  a  duty,  the  re 
sponsibility  of  which  devolves  not  upon  her  children,  but 
upon  her ;  that  it  is  a  duty,  moreover,  of  the  highest  im 
portance,  and  one  that  demands  careful  consideration,  much 
forethought,  and  the  wise  adaptation  of  means  to  the  end. 

Methods. 

The  first  thought  of  some  parents  may  possibly  be,  that 
they  do  not  know  of  any  other  measures  to  take  in  order 


THE  ART  OF  TRAINING.  07 

to  teach  their  children  submission  to  their  authority,  than 
to  reward  them  when  they  obey  and  punish  them  when 
they  disobey.  To  show  that  there  are  other  methods,  we 
will  consider  a  particular  case. 

Mary,  a  young  lady  of  seventeen,  came  to  make  a  visit  to 
her  sister.  She  soon  perceived  that  her  sister's  children, 
Adolphus  and  Lucia,  were  entirely  ungoverned.  Their 
mother  coaxed,  remonstrated,  advised,  gave  reasons,  said 
"I  wouldn't  do  this,"  or  "I  wouldn't  do  that," — did  every 
thing,  in  fact,  except  simply  to  command ;  and  the  chil 
dren,  consequently,  did  pretty  much  what  they  pleased. 
Their  mother  wondered  at  their  disobedience  and  insub 
ordination,  and  in  cases  where  these  faults  resulted  in  spe 
cial  inconvenience  for  herself  she  bitterly  reproached  the 
children  for  their  undutiful  behavior.  But  the  reproaches 
produced  no  effect. 

"  The  first  thing  that  I  have  to  do,"  said  Mary  to  herself, 
in  observing  this  state  of  things,  "  is  to  teach  the  children 
to  obey — at  least  to  obey  me.  I  will  give  them  their  first 
lesson  at  once." 

Mary  makes  a  Beginning. 

So  she  proposed  to  them  to  go  out  with  her  into  the  gai\ 
den  and  show  her  the  flowers,  adding  that  if  they  would  do 
so  she  would  make  each  of  them  a  bouquet.  She  could 
make  them  some  very  pretty  bouquets,  she  said,  provided 
they  would  help  her,  and  would  follow  her  directions  and 
obey  her  implicitly  while  gathering  and  arranging  the  flow 
ers. 

This  the  children  promised  to  do,  and  Mary  went  with 
them  into  the  garden.  There,  as  she  passed  about  from 
border  to  border,  she  gave  them  a  great  many  different 
directions  in  respect  to  things  which  they  were  to  do,  or 
which  they  were  not  to  do.  She  gathered  iloweis,  and 

E 


98  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

gave  some  to  one  child,  and  some  to  the  other,  to  be  held 
and  carried — with  special  instructions  in  respect  to  many 
details,  such  as  directing  some  flowers  to  be  put  together, 
and  others  to  be  kept  separate,  and  specifying  in  what  man 
ner  they  were  to  be  held  or  carried.  Then  she  led  them  to 
a  bower  where  there  was  a  long  seat,  and  explained  to  them 
how  they  were  to  lay  the  flowers  in  order  upon  the  seat, 
and  directed  them  to  be  very  careful  not  to  touch  them 
after  they  were  once  laid  down.  They  were,  moreover,  to 
leave  a  place  in  the  middle  of  the  seat  entirely  clear.  They 
asked  what  that  was  for.  Mary  said  that  they  would  see 
by-and-by.  "  You  must  always  do  just  as  I  say,"  she  add 
ed,  "  and  perhaps  I  shall  explain  the  reason  afterwards,  or 
perhaps  you  will  see  what  the  reason  is  yourselves." 

After  going  on  in  this  way  until  a  sufficient  number  and 
variety  of  flowers  were  collected,  Mary  took  her  seat  in  the 
vacant  place  which  had  been  left,  and  assigned  the  two  por 
tions  of  the  seat  upon  which  the  flowers  had  been  placed 
to  the  children,  giving  each  the  charge  of  the  flowers  upon 
one  portion,  with  instructions  to  select  and  give  to  her  such 
as  she  should  call  for.  From  the  flowers  thus  brought  she 
formed  two  bouquets,  one  for  each  of  the  children.  Then 
she  set  them  both  at  work  to  make  bouquets  for  them 
selves,  giving  them  minute  and  special  directions  in  regard 
to  every  step.  If  her  object  had  been  to  cultivate  their 
taste  and  judgment,  then  it  would  have  been  better  to 
allow  them  to  choose  the  flowers  and  determine  the  ar 
rangement  for  themselves;  but  she  was  teaching  them  obe 
dience,  or,  rather,  beginning  to  form  in  them  the  habit  of 
obedience ;  and  so,  the  more  numerous  and  minute  the 
commands  the  better,  provided  that  they  were  not  in  them 
selves  unreasonable,  nor  so  numerous  and  minute  as  to  be 
vexatious,  so  as  to  incur  any  serious  danger  of  their  not  be 
ing  readily  and  good-humoredly  obeyed. 


THE  ART  OF  TRAINING.  101 

When  the  bouquets  were  finished  '.Alary  gave1  the  chil 
dren,  severally,  the  two  which  'iiad-l?een  ifiMlcf-oc'tlroni  j  and 
the  two  which  they  had  made  for  the'niselves'  she'  took*  into 
the  house  and  placed  them  in  glasses  upon  the  parlor  man 
tel-piece,  and  then  stood  back  with  the  children  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  room  to  admire  them. 

"  See  how  pretty  they  look !  And  how  nicely  the  work 
went  on  while  we  were  making  them !  That  was  because 
you  obeyed  me  so  well  while  we  were  doing  it.  You  did 
exactly  as  I  said  in  every  thing." 

A  .Bey inning  only. 

Now  this  was  an  excellent  first  lesson  in  training  the 
children  to  the  habit  of  obedience.  It  is  true  that  it  was 
only  a  first  lesson.  It  was  a  beginning,  but  it  was  a  very 
good  beginning.  If,  on  the  following  day,  Mary  had  given 
the  children  a  command  which  it  would  be  irksome  to  them 
to  obey,  or  one  which  would  have  called  for  any  special  sac 
rifice  or  self-denial  on  their  part,  they  would  have  disre 
garded  it.  Still  they  would  have  been  a  little  less  inclined 
to  disregard  it  than  if  they  had  not  received  their  first  les 
son  ;  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  if  Mary  were  to  con 
tinue  her  training  in  the  same  spirit  in  which  she  com 
menced  it  she  would,  before  many  weeks,  acquire  a  com 
plete  ascendency  over  them,  and  make  them  entirely  sub 
missive  to  her  will. 

And  yet  this  is  a  species  of  training  the  efficacy  of  which 
depends  on  influences  in  which  the  hope  of  reward  or  the 
fear  of  punishment  does  not  enter.  The  bouquets  were  not 
promised  to  the  children  at  the  outset,  nor  were  they  given 
to  them  at  last  as  rewards.  It  is  true  that  they  saw  the 
advantages  resulting  from  due  subordination  of  the  inferi 
ors  to  the  superior  in  concerted  action,  and  at  the  end  they 
felt  a  satisfaction  in  having  acted  right;  but  these  ad  van- 


10:3  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

tages  did  not  come  In  the  form  of  rewards.     The  efficacy 
of.  the.  lesson  depended  on  a  different  principle  altogether. 

The  Philosophy  of  it. 

The  philosophy  of  it  was  this :  Mary,  knowing  that  the 
principle  of  obedience  in  the  children  was  extremely  weak, 
and  thai  it  could  not  stand  any  serious  test,  contrived  to 
bring  it  into  exercise  a  great  many  times  under  the  light 
est  possible  pressure.  She  called  upon  them  to  do  a  great 
many  different  things,  each  of  which  was  very  easy  to  do, 
and  gave  them  many  little  prohibitions  which  it  required  a 
very  slight  effort  of  self-denial  on  their  part  to  regard  ;  and 
she  connected  agreeable  associations  in  their  minds  with  the 
idea  of  submission  to  authority,  through  the  interest  which 
she  knew  they  would  feel  in  seeing  the  work  of  gathering 
the  flowers  and  making  the  bouquets  go  systematically  and 
prosperously  on,  and  through  the  commendation  of  their 
conduct  which  she  expressed  at  the  end. 

Such  persons  as  Mary  do  not  analyze  distinctly,  in  their 
thoughts,  nor  could  they  express  in  words,  the  principles 
which  underlie  their  management;  but  they  have  an  in 
stinctive  mental  perception  of  the  adaptation  of  such  means 
to  the  end  in  view.  Other  people,  who  observe  how  easily 
and  quietly  they  seem  to  obtain  an  ascendency  over  all  chil 
dren  coming  within  their  influence,  and  how  absolute  this 
ascendency  often  becomes,  are  frequently  surprised  at  it. 
They  think  there  is  some  mystery  about  it ;  they  say  it  is 
"a  knack  that  some  people  have;"  but  there  is  no  mystery 
about  it  at  all,  and  nothing  unusual  or  strange,  except  so 
far  as  practical  good  sense,  considerate  judgment,  and  in 
telligent  observation  and  appreciation  of  the  characteristics 
of  childhood  are  unusual  and  strange. 

Mary  was  aware  that,  although  the  principle  of  obedience 
is  seldom  or  never  entirely  obliterated  from  the  hearts  of 


THE  ART  OF  TRAINING.  103 

children — that  is,  that  the  impression  upon  their  minds, 
which,  though  it  may  not  be  absolutely  instinctive,  is  very 
early  acquired,  that  it  is  incumbent  on  them  to  obey  those 
set  in  authority  over  them,  is  seldom  wholly  effaced,  the 
sentiment  had  become  extremely  feeble  in  the  minds  of 
Adolphus  and  Lucia ;  and  that  it  was  like  a  frail  and  dy 
ing  plant,  which  required  very  delicate  and  careful  nurture 
to  quicken  it  to  life  and  give  it  its  normal  health  and  vigor. 
Her  management  was  precisely  of  this  character.  It  called 
the  weak  and  feeble  principle  into  gentle  exercise,  without 
putting  it  to  any  severe  test,  and  thus  commenced  the  for 
mation  of  a  habit  of  action.  Any  one  will  see  that  a  course 
of  training  on  these  principles,  patiently  and  perseveringly 
continued  for  the  proper  time,  could  not  fail  of  securing 
the  desired  end,  except  in  cases  of  children  characterized 
by  unusual  and  entirely  abnormal  perversity. 

We  can  not  here  follow  in  detail  the  various  modes  in 
which  such  a  manager  as  Mary  would  adapt  her  principle 
to  the  changing  incidents  of  each  day,  and  to  the  different 
stages  of  progress  made  by  her  pupils  in  learning  to  obey, 
but  can  only  enumerate  certain  points  worthy  of  the  atten 
tion  of  parents  who  may  feel  desirous  to  undertake  such  a 
work  of  training. 

Three  practical  Directions. 

1.  Relinquish  entirely  the  idea  of  expecting  children  to 
be  spontaneously  docile  and  obedient,  and  the  practice  of 
scolding  or  punishing  them  vindictively  when  they  are 
not  so.     Instead  of  so  doing,  understand  that  docility  and 
obedience  on  their  part  is  to  be  the  result  of  wise,  careful, 
and  persevering,  though  gentle  training  on  the  part  of  the 
parent. 

2.  If  the  children  have  already  formed  habits  of  disobe 
dience  and  insubordination,  do  not  expect  that  the  dcsirn- 


101  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

ble  change  can  be  effected  by  sudden,  spasmodic,  and  vio 
lent  efforts,  accompanied  by  denunciations  and  threats,  and 
declarations  that  you  are  going  to  "  turn  over  a  new  leaf." 
The  attempt  to  change  perverted  tendencies  in  children  by 
such  means  is  like  trying  to  straighten  a  bend  in  the  stem 
of  a  growing  tree  by  blows  with  a  hammer. 

3.  Instead  of  this,  begin  without  saying  at  all  what  you 
are  going  to  do,  or  finding  any  fault  with  the  past,  and, 
with  a  d^tinct  recognition  of  the  fact  that  whatever  is 
bad  in  the  native  tendencies  of  your  children's  minds  is 
probably  inherited  from  their  parents,  and, perhaps,  specially 
from  yourself,  and  that  whatever  is  wrong  in  their  habits 
of  action  is  certainly  the  result  of  bad  training,  proceed 
cautiously  and  gently,  but  perseveringly  and  firmly,  in 
bringing  the  bent  stem  gradually  up  to  the  right  position. 
In  doing  this,  there  is  no  amount  of  ingenuity  and  skill, 
however  great,  that  may  not  be  usefully  employed;  nor 
is  there,  on  the  other  hand,  except  in  very  rare  and  excep 
tional  cases,  any  parent  who  has  an  allotment  so  small  as 
not  to  be  sufficient  to  accomplish  the  .end,  if  conscientiously 
and  faithfully  employed. 


METHODS  EXEMPLIFIED.  105 


CHAPTER  Yin. 

METHODS  EXEMPLIFIED. 

Ix  order  to  give  a  more  clear  idea  of  what  I  mean  by 
forming  habits  of  obedience  in  children  by  methods  other 
than  those  connected  with  a  system  of  rewards  and  pun 
ishments,  I  will  specify  some  such  methods,  introducing 
them,  however,  only  as  illustrations  of  what  is  intended. 
For,  while  in  respect  to  rewards  and  punishments  some 
thing  like  special  and  definite  rules  and  directions  may  be 
given,  these  other  methods,  as  they  depend  on  the  tact,  in 
genuity,  and  inventive  powers  of  the  parents  for  their  suc 
cess,  depend  also  in  great  measure  upon  these  same  qual 
ities  for  the  discovery  of  them.  The  only  help  that  can 
be  received  from  without  must  consist  of  suggestions  and 
illustrations,  which  can  only  serve  to  communicate  to  the 
mind  some  general  ideas  in  respect  to  them. 

Recognizing  the  Right. 

1.  A  very  excellent  effect  is  produced  in  forming  habits 
of  obedience  in  children,  by  simply  noticing  their  good 
conduct  when  they  do  right,  and  letting  them  see  that  you 
notice  it.  When  children  are  at  play  upon  the  carpet,  and 
their  mother  from  time  to  time  calls  one  of  them — Mary, 
we  will  say— to  come  to  her  to  render  some  little  service,  it 
is  very  often  the  case  that  she  is  accustomed,  when  Mary 
obeys  the  call  at  once,  leaving  her  play  immediately  and 
coming  directly,  to  say  nothing  about  the  prompt  obedi 
ence,  but  to  treat  it  as  a  matter  of  course.  It  is  only  in 
the  cases  of  failure  that  she  seems  to  notice  the  action. 

E2 


IOC  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

When  Mary,  greatly  interested  in  what  for  the  moment 
she  is  doing,  delays  her  coming,  she  says,  "  You  ought  to 
come  at  once,  Mary,  when  I  call  you,  and  not  make  me  wait 
in  this  way."  In  the  cases  when  Mary  did  come  at  once, 
she  had  said  nothing. 

Mary  goes  back  to  her  play  after  the  reproof,  a  little  dis 
turbed  in  mind,  at  any  rate,  and  perhaps  considerably  out 
of  humor. 

Now  Mary  may,  perhaps,  be  in  time  induced  to  obey 
more  promptly  under  this  management,  but  she  will  have 
no  heart  in  making  the  improvement,  and  she  will  advance 
reluctantly  and  slowly,  if  at  all.  But  if,  at  the  first  time 
that  she  comes  promptly,  and  then,  after  doing  the  errand, 
is  ready  to  go  back  to  her  play,  her  mother  says, "  You  left 
your  play  and  came  at  once  when  I  called  you.  That  was 
right.  It  pleases  me  very  much  to  find  that  I  can  depend 
upon  your  being  so  prompt,  even  when  you  are  at  play," 
Mary  will  go  back  to  her  play  pleased  and  happy ;  and  the 
tendency  of  the  incident  will  be  to  cause  her  to  feel  a  spon 
taneous  and  cordial  interest  in  the  principle  of  prompt  obe 
dience  in  time  to  come. 

Johnny  is  taking  a  walk  through  the  fields  with  his 
mother.  lie  sees  a  butterfly  and  sets  off  in  chase  of  it. 
When  he  has  gone  away  from  the  path  among  the  rocks 
and  bushes  as  far  as  his  mother  thinks  is  safe,  she  calls  him 
to  come  back.  In  many  cases,  if  the  boy  does  not  come  at 
once  in  obedience  to  such  a  call,  he  would  perhaps  receive 
a  scolding.  If  he  does  come  back  at  once,  nothing  is  said. 
In  either  case  no  decided  effect  would  be  produced  upon 
him. 

But  if  his  mother  says,  "Johnny,  you  obeyed  me  at  once 
when  I  called  you.  It  must  be  hard,  when  you  are  after  a 
butterfly  and  think  you  have  almost  caught  him,  to  stop 
immediately  and  come  back  to  your  mother  when  she  calls 


METHODS  EXEMPLIFIED.  107 

you;  but  you  did  it,"  Johnny  will  be  led  by  this  treat 
ment  to  feel  a  desire  to  come  back  more  promptly  still  the 
next  time. 

A.  Caution. 

Of  course  there  is  an  endless  variety  of  ways  by  which 
you  can  show  your  children  that  you  notice  and  appreciate 
the  efforts  they  make  to  do  right.  Doubtless  there  is  a 
danger  to  be  guarded  against.  To  adopt  the  practice  of 
noticing  and  commending  what  is  right,  and  paying  no  at 
tention  whatever  to  what  is  wrong,  would  be  a  great  per 
version  of  this  counsel.  There  is  a  danger  more  insidious 
than  this,  but  still  very  serious  and  real,  of  fostering  a  feel 
ing  of  vanity  and  self-conceit  by  constant  and  inconsiderate 
praise.  These  things  must  be  guarded  against ;  and  to  se 
cure  the  good  aimed  at,  and  at  the  same  time  to  avoid  the 
evil,  requires  the  exercise  of  the  tact  and  ingenuity  which 
has  before  been  referred  to.  But  with  proper  skill  and 
proper  care  the  habit  of  noticing  and  commending,  or  even 
noticing  alone,  when  children  do  right,  and  of  even  being 
more  quick  to  notice  and  to  be  pleased  with  the  right  than 
to  detect  and  be  dissatisfied  with  the  wrong,  will  be  found 
to  be  a  very  powerful  means  of  training  children  in  the 
right  way. 

Children  will  act  with  a  great  deal  more  readiness  and 
alacrity  to  preserve  a  good  character  which  people  already 
attribute  to  them,  than  to  relieve  themselves  of  the  oppro 
brium  of  a  bad  one  with  which  they  are  charged.  In  oth 
er  words,  it  is  much  easier  to  allure  them  to  what  is  right 
than  to  drive  them  from  what  is  wrong. 

Giving  Advice. 

2.  There  is,  perhaps,  nothing  more  irksome  to  children 
than  to  listen  to  advice  given  to  them  in  a  direct  and  sim- 


10S  GENTLE  MEASUHES. 

pie  form,  and  perhaps  there  is  nothing  that  has  less  influ 
ence  upon  them  in  the  formation  of  their  characters  than 
advice  so  given.  And  there  is  good  reason  for  this;  for 
either  the  advice  must  be  general,  and  of  course  more  or 
less  abstract,  when  it  is  necessarily  in  a  great  measure  lost 
upon  them,  since  their  powers  of  generalization  and  abstrac 
tion  are  not  yet  developed ;  or  else,  if  it  is  practical  and 
particular  at  all,  it  must  be  so  with  reference  to  their  own 
daily  experience  in  life — in  which  case  it  becomes  more  irk 
some  still,  as  they  necessarily  regard  it  as  an  indirect  mode 
of  fault-finding.  Indeed,  this  kind  of  advice  is  almost  cer 
tain  to  assume  the  form  of  half-concealed  fault-finding,  for 
the  subject  of  the  counsel  given  would  be,  in  almost  all 
cases,  suggested  by  the  errors,  or  shortcomings,  or  failures 
which  had  been  recently  observed  in  the  conduct  of  the 
children.  The  art,  then,  of  giving  to  children  general  ad 
vice  and  instruction  in  respect  to  their  conduct  and  behav 
ior,  consists  in  making  it  definite  and  practical,  and  at  the 
same  time  contriving  some  way  of  divesting  it  entirely  of 
all  direct  application  to  themselves  in  respect  to  their  past 
conduct.  Of  course,  the  more  we  make  it  practically  appli 
cable  to  them  in  respect  to  the  future  the  better. 

There  are  various  ways  of  giving  advice  of  this  charac 
ter.  It  requires  some  ingenuity  to  invent  them,  and  some 
degree  of  tact  and  skill  to  apply  them  successfully.  But 
the  necessary  tact  and  skill  would  be  easily  acquired  by 
any  mother  whose  heart  is  really  set  upon  finding  gentle 
modes  of  leading  her  child  into  the  path  of  duty. 

James  and  his  Cousins. 

James,  going  to  spend  one  of  his  college  vacations  at  his 
uncle's,  was  taken  by  his  two  cousins,  Walter  and  Ann — 
eight  and  six  years  old — into  their  room.  The  room  was 
all  in  confusion.  There  was  a  set  of  book-shelves  upon  one 


METHODS  EXEMPLIFIED.  109 

side,  the  books  upon  them  lying  tumbled  about  in  all  direc 
tions.  There  was  a  case  containing  playthings  in  another 
place,  the  playthings  broken  and  in  disorder ;  and  two  ta 
bles,  one  against  the  wall,  and  the  other  in  the  middle  of 
the  room,  both  covered  with  litter.  Now  if  James  had 
commenced  his  conversation  by  giving  the  children  a  lec 
ture  on  the  disorder  of  their  room,  and  on  the  duty,  on 
their  part,  of  taking  better  care  of  their  things,  the  chief 
effect  would  very  probably  have  been  simply  to  prevent 
their  wishing  to  have  him  come  to  their  room  again. 

But  James  managed  the  case  differently.  After  going 
about  the  room  for  a  few  minutes  with  the  children,  and 
looking  with  them  at  their  various  treasures,  and  admiring 
what  they  seemed  to  admire,  but  without  finding  any  fault, 
he  sat  down  before  the  fire  and  took  the  children  upon  his 
lap — one  upon  each  knee — and  began  to  talk  to  them. 
Ann  had  one  of  her  picture-books  in  her  hand,  some  of  the 
leaves  torn,  and  the  rest  defaced  with  dog's-ears. 

"  Now,  Walter,"  said  James, "  I'm  going  to  give  you  some 
advice.  I  am  going  to  advise  you  what  to  do  and  how  to 
act  when  you  go  to  college.  By-and-by  you  will  grow  to  be 
a  young  man,  and  will  then,  perhaps,  go  to  college." 

The  idea  of  growing  to  be  a  young  man  and  going  to  col 
lege  was  very  pleasing  to  Walter's  imagination,  and  brought 
his  mind  into  what  may  be  called  a  receptive  condition — 
that  is,  into  a  state  to  receive  readily,  and  entertain  with  fa 
vor,  the  thoughts  which  James  was  prepared  to  present. 

James  then  went  on  to  draw  a  very  agreeable  picture  of 
Walter's  leaving  home  and  going  to  college,  with  many  de 
tails  calculated  to  be  pleasing  to  his  cousin's  fancy,  and 
came  at  length  to  his  room,  and  to  the  circumstances  un 
der  which  he  would  take  possession  of  it.  Then  he  told 
him  of  the  condition  in  which  different  scholars  kept  their 
respective  rooms — how  some  were  always  in  disorder,  and 


110  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

every  thing  in  them  topsy-turvy,  so  that  they  had  no  pleas 
ant  or  home-like  aspect  at  all ;  while  in  others  every  thing 
was  well  arranged,  and  kept  continually  in  that  condition, 
so  as  to  give  the  whole  room,  to  every  one  who  entered  it, 
a  very  charming  appearance. 

"  The  books  on  their  shelves  were  all  properly  arranged," 
he  said,  "  all  standing  up  in  order — those  oi  a  like  size  to 
gether.  Jump  down,  Ann,  and  go  to  your  shelves,  and  ar 
range  the  books  on  the  middle  shelf  in  that  way,  to  show 
him  what  I  mean." 

Ann  jumped  down,  and  ran  with  great  alacrity  to  ar 
range  the  books  according  to  the  directions.  When  she 
had  arranged  one  shelf,  she  was  proceeding  to  do  the  same 
with  the  next,  but  James  said  she  need  not  do  any  more 
then.  She  could  arrange  the  others,  if  she  pleased,  at  an 
other  time,  he  said.  "But  come  back  now,"  he  added, 
"  and  hear  the  rest  of  the  advice." 

"  I  advise  you  to  keep  your  book-shelves  in  nice  order  at 
college,"  he  continued ;  "  and  so  with  your  apparatus  and 
your  cabinet.  For  at  college,  you  see,  you  will  perhaps 
have  articles  of  philosophical  apparatus,  and  a  cabinet  of 
specimens,  instead  of  playthings.  I  advise  you,  if  you 
should  have  such  things,  to  keep  them  all  nicely  arranged 
upon  their  shelves." 

Here  James  turned  his  chair  a  little,  so  that  he  and  the 
children  could  look  towards  the  cabinet  of  playthings. 
Walter  climbed  down  from  his  cousin's  lap  and  ran  off  to 
that  side  of  the  room,  and  there  began  hastily  to  arrange 
the  playthings. 

"  Yes,"  said  James,  "  that  is  the  way.  But  never  mind 
that  now.  I  think  you  will  know  how  to  arrange  your 
philosophical  instruments  and  your  cabinet  very  nicely 
when  you  are  in  college ;  and  you  can  keep  your  playthings 
in  order  in  your  room  here,  while  you  are  a  boy,  if  you 


METHODS  EXEMPLIFIED.  Ill 

please.  But  como  back  now  and  hear  the  rest  of  the  ad 
vice." 

So  Walter  came  back  and  took  his  place  again  upon 
James's  knee. 

"And  I  advise  you,"  continued  James,  "to  take  good 
care  of  your  books  when  you  are  in  college.  It  is  pleas- 
anter,  at  the  time,  to  use  books  that  are  clean  and  nice,  and 
then,  besides,  you  will  like  to  take  your  college  books  with 
you,  after  you  leave  college,  and  keep  them  as  long  as  you 
live,  as  memorials  of  your  early  days,  and  you  will  value 
them  a  great  deal  more  if  they  are  in  good  order." 

IIer<?  Ann  opened  the  book  which  was  in  her  hand,  and 
began  to  fold  back  the  dog's-ears  and  to  smooth  down  the 
leaves. 

The  Principle  Involved. 

In  a  word,  by  the  simple  expedient  of  shifting  the  time, 
in  the  imagination  of  the  children,  when  the  advice  which 
he  was  giving  them  would  come  to  its  practical  application, 
he  divested  it  of  all  appearance  of  fault-finding  in  respect  to 
their  present  conduct,  and  so  secured  not  merely  its  ready 
admission,  but  a  cordial  welcome  for  it,  in  their  minds. 

Any  mother  who  sees  and  clearly  apprehends  the  princi 
ple  here  illustrated,  and  has  ingenuity  enough  to  avail  her 
self  of  it,  will  find  an  endless  variety  of  modes  by  which 
she  can  make  use  of  it,  to  gain  easy  access  to  the  hearts  of 
her  children,  for  instructions  and  counsels  which,  when  they 
come  in  the  form  of  fault-finding  advice,  make  no  impres 
sion  whatever. 

Expectations  of  Results  must  be  Reasonable. 
Some  persons,  however,  who  read  without  much  reflec 
tion,  and  who  do  not  clearly  see  the  principle  involved  in 
the  case  above  described,  and  do  not  understand  it  as  it 


112  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

is  intended — that  is,  as  a  single  specimen  or  example  of  a 
mode  of  action  capable  of  an  endless  variety  of  applications, 
will  perhaps  say,  "  Oh,  that  was  all  very  well.  James's  talk 
was  very  good  for  the  purpose  of  amusing  the  children  for 
a  few  minutes  while  he  was  visiting  them,  but  it  is  idle  to 
suppose  that  such  a  conversation  could  produce  any  per 
manent  or  even  lasting  impression  upon  them;  still  less, 
that  it  could  work  any  effectual  change  in  respect  to  their 
habits  of  order." 

That  is  very  true.  In  the  work  of  forming  the  hearts 
and  minds  of  children  it  is  "line  upon  line,  and  precept 
upon  precept"  that  is  required;  and  it  can  not  be  claimed 
that  one  such  conversation  as  that  of  James  is  any  thing 
more  than  one  line.  But  it  certainly  is  that.  It  would  be 
as  unreasonable  to  expect  that  one  single  lesson  like  that 
could  effectually  and  completely  accomplish  the  end  in 
view,  as  that  one  single  watering  of  a  plant  will  suffice  to 
enable  it  to  attain  completely  its  growth,  and  enable  it  to 
produce  in  perfection  its  fruits  or  its  flowers. 

But  if  a  mother  often  clothes  thus  the  advice  or  instruc 
tion  which  she  has  to  give  to  her  children  in  some  imag 
inative  guise  like  this,  advising  them  what  to  do  when 
they  are  on  a  journey,  for  example,  or  when  they  are  mak 
ing  a  visit  at  the  house  of  a  friend  in  the  country ;  or,  in 
the  case  of  a  boy,  what  she  would  counsel  him  to  do  in  case 
he  were  a  young  man  employed  by  a  farmer  to  help  him 
on  his  farm,  or  a  clerk  in  a  store,  or  a  sea-captain  in  charge 
of  a  ship,  or  a  general  commanding  a  force  in  the  field ;  or, 
if  a  girl,  what  dangers  or  what  undesirable  habits  or  ac 
tions  she  should  avoid  when  travelling  in  Europe,  or  when, 
-as  a  young  lady,  she  joins  in  picnics  or  goes  on  excursions, 
or  attends  concerts  or  evening  parties,  or  in  any  of  the 
countless  other  situations  which  it  is  pleasant  for  young 
persons  to  picture  to  their  minds,  introducing  into  all,  so 


METHODS  EXEMPLIFIED.  113 

far  as  her  ingenuity  and  skill  enable  her  to  do  it,  interest 
ing  incidents  and  details,  she  will  find  that  she  is  opening 
to  herself  an  avenue  to  her  children's  hearts  for  the  sound 
moral  principles  that  she  wishes  to  inculcate  upon  them, 
which  she  can  often  employ  easily,  pleasantly,  and  very 
advantageously,  both  to  herself  and  to  them. 

When  a  child  is  sick,  it  may  be  of  little  consequence 
whether  the  medicine  which  is  required  is  agreeable  or  dis 
agreeable  to  the  taste.  But  with  moral  remedies  the  case 
is  different.  Sometimes  the  whole  efficiency  of  the  treat 
ment  administered  as  a  corrective  for  a  moral  disorder  de 
pends  upon  the  readiness  and  willingness  with  which  it 
is  taken.  To  make  it  disagreeable,  consequently,  in  such 
cases,  is  to  neutralize  the  intended  action  of  it — a  result 
which  the  methods  described  in  this  chapter  greatly  tend 
to  avoid. 


114  GENTLE  MEASURES. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

BELLA  AND  THE  DOLLS. 

Tins  book  may,  perhaps,  sometimes  fall  into  the  hands 
of  persons  who  have,  temporarily  or  otherwise,  the  charge 
of  young  children  without  any  absolute  authority  over 
them,  or  any  means,  or  even  any  right,  to  enforce  their 
commands,  as  was  the  case,  in  fact,  with  the  older  brothers 
or  sister  referred  to  in  the  preceding  illustrations.  To 
such  persons,  these  indirect  modes  of  training  children  in 
habits  of  subordination  to  their  will,  or  rather  of  yielding 
to  their  influence,  are  specially  useful.  Such  persons  may 
be  interested  in  the  manner  in  which  Delia  made  use  of 
the  children's  dolls  as  a  means  of  guiding  and  governing 
their  little  mothers. 

Delia. 

Delia  had  a  young  sister  named  Maria,  and  a  cousin 
whose  name  wras  Jane.  Jane  used  often  to  come  to  make 
Maria  a  visit,  and  when  together  the  children  were  accus 
tomed  to  spend  a  great  deal  of  time  in  playing  with  their 
dolls.  Besides  dressing  and  undressing  them,  and  playing 
take  them  out  to  excursions  and  visits,  they  used  to  talk 
with  them  a  great  deal,  and  give  them  much  useful  and 
valuable  information  and  instruction. 

Now  Delia  contrived  to  obtain  a  great  influence  and  as 
cendency  over  the  minds  of  the  children  by  means  of  these 
dolls.  She  fell  at  once  into  the  idea  of  the  children  in  re 
gard  to  them,  and  treated  them  always  as  if  they  were  real 
persons ;  often  speaking  of  them  and  to  them,  in  the  pres- 


DELL  A  AND  THE  DOLLS.  117 

enee  of  tlio  other  children,  in  the  most  serious  manner. 
This  not  only  pleased  the  children  very  much,  but  enabled 
Delia,  under  pretense  of  talking  to  the  dolls,  to  communi 
cate  a  great  deal  of  useful  instruction  to  the  children,  and 
sometimes  to  make  very  salutary  and  lasting  impressions 
upon  their  minds. 

Lectures  to  the  Dolls. 

For  instance,  sometimes  when  Jane  was  making  Maria  a 
visit,  and  the  two  children  came  into  her  room  with  their 
dolls  in  their  arms,  she  would  speak  to  them  as  if  they 
were  real  persons,  and  then  taking  them  in  her  hands 
would  set  them  before  her  on  her  knee,  and  give  them  a 
very  grave  lecture  in  respect  to  the  proper  behavior  which 
they  were  to  observe  during  the  afternoon.  If  Delia  had 
attempted  to  give  precisely  the  same  lecture  to  the  chil 
dren  themselves,  they  would  very  soon  have  become  rest 
less  and  uneasy,  and  it  would  have  made  very  little  impres 
sion  upon  them.  But  being  addressed  to  the  dolls,  they 
would  be  greatly  interested  in  it,  and  would  listen  with  the 
utmost  attention ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  counsels 
and  instructions  which  she  gave  made  a  much  stronger 
impression  upon  their  minds  than  if  they  had  been  ad 
dressed  directly  to  the  children  themselves.  To  give  an 
idea  of  these  conversations  I  will  report  one  of  them  in 
full. 

"How  do  you  do,  my  children?''  she  said,  on  one  such 
occasion.  "I  am  very  glad  to  see  you.  How  nice  you 
look  !  You  have  come,  Andella  (Andella  was  the  name  of 
Jane's  doll),  to  make  Rosalie  a  visit.  I  am  very  glad.  You 
will  have  a  very  pleasant  time,  I  am  sure ;  because  you  nev 
er  quarrel.  I  observe  that,  when  you  both  wish  for  the 
same  thing,  you  don't  quarrel  for'it  and  try  to  pull  it  away 
from  one  another;  but  one  waits  like  a  laclv  until  the  other 


118  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

has  done  with  it.  I  expect  you  have  been  a  very  good 
girl,  Andella,  since  you  were  here  last." 

Then,  turning  to  Jane,  she  asked,  in  a  somewhat  altered 
tone,  "  Has  she  been  a  good  girl,  Jane  ?" 

"  She  has  been  a  pretty  good  girl,"  said  Jane,  "  but  she 
has  been  sick." 

"  Ah !"  said  Delia  in  a  tone  of  great  concern,  and  look 
ing  again  at  Andella,  "I  heard  that  you  had  been  sick.  I 
heard  that  you  had  an  attack  of  Aurora  Borealis,  or  some 
thing  like  that.  And  you  don't  look  very  well  now.  You 
must  take  good  care  of  yourself,  and  if  you  don't  feel  well, 
you  must  ask  your  mother  to  bring  you  in  to  me  and  I  will 
give  you  a  dose  of  my  medicine — my  aqua  saccharina.  I 
know  you  always  take  your  medicine  like  a  little  heroine 
when  you  are  sick,  without  making  any  difficulty  or  trouble 
at  all." 

Aqua  saccharina  was  the  Latin  name  which  Delia  gave 
to  a  preparation  of  which  she  kept  a  supply  in  a  small  phial 
on  her  table,  ready  to  make-believe  give  to  the  dolls  when 
they  were  sick.  Maria  and  Jane  were  very  fond  of  play 
ing  that  their  dolls  were  sick  and  bringing  them  to  Delia 
for  medicine,  especially  as  Delia  always  recommended  to 
them  to  taste  the  medicine  themselves  from  a  spoon  first, 
in  order  to  set  their  children  a  good  example  of  taking  it 
well. 

Sometimes  Delia  would  let  the  children  take  the  phial 
away,  so  as  to  have  it  always  at  hand  in  case  the  dolls 
should  be  taken  suddenly  worse.  But  in  such  cases  as  this 
the  attacks  were  usually  so  frequent,  and  the  mothers  were 
obliged  to  do  so  much  tasting  to  encourage  the  patients, 
that  the  phial  was  soon  brought  back  nearly  or  quite  emp 
ty,  when  Delia  used  to  replenish  it  by  filling  it  nearly  full 
of  water,  and  then  pouring  a  sufficient  quantity  of  the 
saccharine  powder  into  the  mouth  of  it  from  the  sugar- 


DELLA  AND  THE  DOLLS.  110 

bowl  with  a  spoon.  Nothing  more  was  necessary  except  to 
shake  up  the  mixture  in  order  to  facilitate  the  process  of 
solution,  and  the  medicine  was  ready. 

A  Medium  of  Reproof  . 

Delia  was  accustomed  to  use  the  dolls  not  only  for  the 
purpose  of  instruction,  but  sometimes  for  reproof,  in  many 
ingenious  ways.  For  instance,  one  day  the  children  had 
been  playing  upon  the  piazza  with  blocks  and  other  play 
things,  and  finally  had  gone  into  the  house,  leaving  all  the 
things  on  the  floor  of  the  piazza,  instead  of  putting  them 
away  in  their  places,  as  they  ought  to  have  done.  They 
were  now  playing  with  their  dolls  in  the  parlor. 

Delia  came  to  the  parlor,  and  with  an  air  of  great  mys 
tery  beckoned  the  children  aside,  and  said  to  them,  in  a 
whisper,  "  Leave  Andella  and  Rosalie  here,  and  don't  say  a- 
word  to  them.  I  want  you  to  come  with  me.  There  is  a 
secret — something  I  would  not  have  them  Lnow  on  any  ac 
count." 

So  saying,  she  led  the  way  on  tiptoe,  followed  by  the 
children  out  of  the  room,  and  round  by  a  circuitous  route 
to  the  piazza. 

"  There  !"  said  she,  pointing  to  the  playthings ;  "  see  !  all 
your  playthings  left  out!  Put  them,  away  quick  before 
Andella  and  Rosalie  see  them.  I  would  not  have  them 
know  that  their  mothers  leave  their  playthings  about  in 
that  way  for  any  consideration.  They  would  think  that 
they  might  do  so  too,  and  that  would  make  you  a  great 
deal  of  trouble.  You  teach  them,  I  have  no  doubt,  that 
they  must  always  put  their  playthings  away,  and  they  must 
see  that  you  set  them  a  good  example.  Put  these  play 
things  all  away  quick,  and  carefully,  and  we  will  not  let 
them  know  any  thing  about  your  leaving  them  out." 

So  the  children  went  to  work  with  great  alacrity,  and 


120  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

put  the  playthings  all  away.  And  this  method  of  treating 
the  case  was  much  more  effectual  in  making  them  disposed 
to  avoid  committing  a  similar  fault  another  time  than  any 
direct  rebukes  or  expressions  of  displeasure  addressed  per 
sonally  to  them  would  have  been. 

Besides,  a  scolding  would  have  made  them  unhappy,  and 
this  did  not  make  them  unhappy  at  all ;  it  amused  and  en 
tertained  them.  If  you  can  lead  children  to  cure  them 
selves  of  their  faults  in  such  a  way  that  they  shall  have  a 
good  time  in  doing  it,  there  is  a  double  gain. 

In  due  time,  by  this  kind  of  management,  and  by  other 
modes  conceived  and  executed  in  the  same  spirit,  Delia 
gained  so  great  an  ascendency  over  the  children  that  they 
were  far  more  ready  to  conform  to  her  will,  and  to  obey  all 
her  directions,  than  they  would  have  been  to  submit  to  the 
most  legitimate  authority  that  was  maintained,  as  such  au 
thority  too  often  is,  by  fault-finding  and  threats,  and  with 
out  any  sympathy  with  the  fancies  and  feelings  which  reign 
over  the  hearts  of  the  children  in  the  little  world  in  which 
they  live. 


SYMPATHY.  121 


CHAPTER  X. 

SYMPATHY:— I.  THE  CHILD  WITH  THE  PARENT. 

THE  subject  of  sympathy  between  children  and  parents 
is  to  be  considered  in  two  aspects :  first,  that  of  the  child 
with  the  parent ;  and  secondly,  that  of  the  parent  with  the 
child.  That  is  to  say,  an  emotion  may  be  awakened  in  the 
child  by  its  existence  and  manifestation  in  the  parent,  and 
secondly,  it  may  be  awakened  in  the  parent  by  its  existence 
in  the  child. 

We  are  all  ready  to  acknowledge  in  words  the  great 
power  and  influence  of  sympathy,  but  very  few  are  aware 
how  very  vast  this  power  is,  and  how  inconceivably  great 
is  the  function  which  this  principle  fulfills  in  the  formation 
of  the  human  character,  and  in  regulating  the  conduct  of 
men. 

Mysterious  Action  of  the  Principle  of  Sympathy. 

There  is  a  great  mystery  in  the  nature  of  it,  and  in  the 
manner  of  its  action.  This  we  see  very  clearly  in  the  sim 
plest  and  most  striking  material  form  of  it — the  act  of  gap 
ing.  Why  and  how  does  the  witnessing  of  the  act  of  gap 
ing  in  one  person,  or  even  the  thought  of  it,  produce  a  tend 
ency  to  the  same  action  in  the  nerves  and  muscles  of  an 
other  person?  When  we  attempt  to  trace  the  chain  of 
connection  through  the  eye,  the  brain,  and  the  thoughts — 
through  which  line  of  agencies  the  chain  of  cause  and  ef 
fect  must  necessarily  run — we  are  lost  and  bewildered. 

Other  states  and  conditions  in  which  the  mental  element 
is  more  apparent  are  communicated  from  one  to  another 

F 


1£2  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

m  the  same  or,  at  least,  in  some  analogous  way.  Being 
simply  in  the  presence  of  one  who  is  amused,  or  happy,  or 
sad,  causes  us  to  feel  amused,  or  happy,  or  sad  ourselves — 
or,  at  least,  has  that  tendency — even  if  we  do  not  know 
from  what  cause  the  emotion  which  is  communicated  to 
us  proceeds.  A  person  of  a  joyous  and  happy  disposition 
often  brightens  up  at  once  any  little  circle  into  which  he 
enters,  while  a  morose  and  melancholy  man  carries  gloom 
with  him  wherever  he  goes.  Eloquence,  which,  if  we  were 
to  hear  it  addressed  to  us  personally  and  individually,  in 
private  conversation,  would  move  us  very  little,  will  excite 
us  to  a  pitch  of  the  highest  enthusiasm  if  we  hear  it  in  the 
midst  of  a  vast  audience;  even  though  the  words,  and  the 
gestures,  and  the  inflections  of  the  voice,  and  the  force  with 
which  it  reaches  our  cars,  were  to  be  precisely  the  same  in 
the  two  cases.  And  so  a  joke,  which  would  produce  only  a 
quiet  smile  if  we  read  it  by  ourselves  at  the  fireside  alone, 
will  evoke  convulsions  of  laughter  when  heard  in  a  crowded 
theatre,  where  the  hilarity  is  shared  by  thousands. 

A  new  clement,  indeed,  seems  to  come  into  action  in  these 
last  two  cases ;  for  the  mental  condition  of  one  mind  is  not 
only  communicated  to  another,  but  it  appears  to  be  in 
creased  and  intensified  by  the  communication.  Each  does 
not  feel  merely  the  enthusiasm  or  the  mirth  which  would 
naturally  be  felt  by  the  other,  but  the  general  emotion  is 
vastly  heightened  by  its  being  so  largely  shared.  It  is  like 
the  case  of  the  live  coal,  which  does  not  merely  set  the  dead 
coal  on  fire  by  being  placed  in  contact  with  it,  but  the  two 
together,  when  together,  burn  far  more  brightly  than  when 
apart. 

Wonderful  Power  of  Sympathy. 

So  much  for  the  reality  of  this  principle ;  and  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  exaggerate  the  extent  and  the  magnitude  of 


SYMPATHY.  123 

the  influence  it  exerts  in  forming  the  character  and  shaping 
the  ideas  and  opinions  of  men,  and  in  regulating  all  their 
ordinary  habits  of  thought  and  feeling.  People's  opinions 
are  not  generally  formed  or  controlled  by  arguments  or 
reasonings,  as  they  fondly  suppose.  They  are  imbibed  by 
sympathy  from  those  whom  they  like  or  love,  and  who  are, 
or  have  been,  their  associates.  Thus  people,  when  they  ar 
rive  at  maturity,  adhere  in  the  main  to  the  associations, 
both  in  religion  and  in  politics,  in  which  they  have  been 
brought  up,  from  the  influence  of  sympathy  with  those 
whom  they  love.  They  believe  in  this  or  that  doctrine  or 
system,  not  because  they  have  been  convinced  by  proof, 
but  chiefly  because  those  whom  they  love  believe  in  them. 
On  religious  questions  the  arguments  are  presented  to 
them,  it  is  true,  while  they  are  young,  in  catechisms  and  in 
other  forms  of  religious  instruction,  and  in  politics  by  the 
conversations  which  they  overhear;  but  it  is  a  mistake  to 
suppose  that  arguments  thus  offered  have  any  material  ef 
fect  as  processes  of  ratiocination  in  producing  any  logical 
conviction  upon  their  minds.  An  English  boy  is  Whig  or 
Tory  because  his  father,  and  his  brothers,  and  his  uncles  are 
Whigs  or  Tories.  lie  may,  indeed,  have  many  arguments  at 
his  command  with  which  to  maintain  his  opinions,  but  it  is 
not  the  force  of  the  arguments  that  has  convinced  him,  nor 
do  they  have  any  force  as  a  means  of  convincing  the  other 
boys  to  whom  he  offers  them.  They  are  controlled  by  their 
sympathies,  as  he  is  by  his.  But  if  he  is  a  popular  boy,  and 
makes  himself  a  favorite  among  his  companions,  the  very 
fact  that  he  is  of  this  or  that  party  will  have  more  effect 
upon  the  other  boys  than  the  most  logical  and  conclusive 
trains  of  reasoning  that  can  be  conceived. 

So  it  is  w~ith  the  religious  and  political  differences  in  this 
and  in  every  other  country.  Every  one's  opinions — or  rath 
er  the  opinion  of  people  in  general,  for  of  course  there  are 


13i  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

many  individual  exceptions  —  are  formed  from  sympathy 
with  those  with  whom  in  mind  and  heart  they  have  been  in 
friendly  communication  during  their  years  of  childhood  and 
youth.  And  even  in  those  cases  where  persons  change  their 
religious  opinions  in  adult  age,  the  explanation  of  the  mys 
tery  is  generally  to  be  found,  not  in  seeking  for  the  argu 
ment  that  convinced  them,  but  for  the  person  that  led  them, 
in  the  accomplishment  of  the  change.  For  such  changes 
can  very  often,  and  perhaps  generally,  be  traced  to  some 
person  or  persons  whose  influence  over  them,  if  carefully 
scrutinized,  would  be  found  to  consist  really  not  in  the 
force  of  the  arguments  they  offered,  but  in  the  magic  pow 
er  of  a  silent  and  perhaps  unconscious  sympathy.  The 
way,  therefore,  to  convert  people  to  our  ideas  and  opinions 
is  to  make  them  like  us  or  love  us,  and  then  to  avoid  ar 
guing  with  them,  but  simply  let  them  perceive  what  our 
ideas  and  opinions  are. 

The  well-known  proverb,  "Example  is  better  than  pre 
cept,"  is  only  another  form  of  expressing  the  predomina 
ting  power  of  sympathy;  for  example  can  have  little  infl.ii- 
ence  except  so  far  as  a  sympathetic  feeling  in  the  observer 
leads  him  to  imitate  it.  So  that,  example  is  better  than  pre 
cept  means  only  that  sympathy  has  more  influence  in  the 
human  heart  than  reasoning. 

The  Power  of  Sympathy  in  Childhood. 
This  principle,  so  powerful  at  every  period  of  life,  is  at 
its  maximum  in  childhood.  It  is  the  origin,  in  a  very 
great  degree,  of  the  spirit  of  imitation  which  forms  so  re 
markable  a  characteristic  of  the  first  years  of  life.  The 
child's  thoughts  and  feelings  being  spontaneously  drawn 
into  harmony  with  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  those 
around  him  whom  he  loves,  leads,  of  course,  to  a  reproduc 
tion  of  their  actions,  and  the  prevalence  and  universality  of 


SYMPATHY.  11:5 

the  effect  shows  how  constant  and  how  powerful  is  the 
cause.  So 'the  great  secret  of  success  for  a  mother,  in  the 
formation  of  the  character  of  her  children,  is  to  make  her 
children  respect  and  love  her,  and  then  simply  to  be  her 
self  what  she  wishes  them  to  be. 

And  to  make  them  respect  and  love  her,  is  to  control 
them  by  a  firm  government  where  control  is  required,  and 
to  indulge  them  almost  without  limit  where  indulgence  will 
do  no  harm. 

Special  Application  of  the  Principle. 

But  besides  this  general  effect  of  the  principle  of  sym 
pathy  in  aiding  parents  in  forming  the  minds  and  hearts 
of  their  children,  there  are  a  great  many  cases  in  which  a 
father  or  mother  who  understands  the  secret  of  its  won 
derful  and  almost  magic  power  can  avail  themselves  of  it 
to  produce  special  effects.  One  or  two  examples  will  show 
more  clearly  what  I  mean. 

William's  aunt  Maria  came  to  pay  his  mother  a  visit  in 
the  village  where  William's  mother  lived.  On  the  same 
day  she  went  to  take  a  walk  with  William — who  is  about 
nine  years  old — to  see  the  village.  As  they  went  along 
together  upon  the  sidewalk,  they  came  to  two  small  boys 
who  were  trying  to  fly  a  kite.  One  of  the  boys  was  stand 
ing  upon  the  sidewalk,  embarrassed  a  little  by  some  entan 
glement  of  the  string. 

"  Here,  you  fellow !"  said  William,  as  he  and  his  aunt 
approached  the  spot,  "get  out  of  the  way  with  your  kite, 
and  let  us  go  by." 

The  boy  hurried  out  of  the  way,  and,  in  so  doing,  got  his 
kite-string  more  entangled  still  in  the  branches  of  a  tree 
which  grew  at  the  margin  of  the  sidewalk. 

Now  William's  aunt  might  have  taken  the  occasion,  as 
she  and  her  nephew  walked  along,  to  give  him  some  kind 


liC  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

and  friendly  instruction  or  counsel  about  the  duty  of  be 
ing  kind  to  every  body  in  any  difficulty,  trouble,  or  per 
plexity,  whether  they  are  young  or  old ;  showing  him  how 
we  increase  the  general  sum  of  happiness  in  so  doing,  and 
how  we  feel  happier  ourselves  when  we  have  done  good 
to  any  one,  than  when  we  have  increased  in  any  way,  or 
even  slighted  or  disregarded,  their  troubles.  How  William 
would  receive  such  a  lecture  would  depend  a  great  deal 
upon  his  disposition  and  state  of  mind.  But  in  most  cases 
such  counsels,  given  at  such  a  time,  involving,  as  they  would, 
some  covert  though  very  gentle  censure,  would  cause  the 
heart  of  the  boy  to  close  itself  in  a  greater  or  less  degree 
against  them,  like  the  leaves  of  a  sensitive -plant  shrink 
ing  from  the  touch.  The  reply  would  very  probably  be, 
"  Well,  he  had  no  business  to  be  on  the  sidewalk,  right  in 
our  way." 

William  and  his  aunt  walked  on  ,1  few  steps.  His  aunt 
then  stopped,  hesitatingly,  and  said, 

"  How  would  it  do  to  go  back  and  help  that  boy  disen 
tangle  his  kite-string  ?  He's  a  little  fellow,  and  does  not 
know  so  much  about  kites  and  kite-strings  as  you  do." 

Here  the  suggestion  of  giving  help  to  perplexity  and  dis 
tress  came  associated  with  a  compliment  instead  of  what 
implied  censure,  and  the  leaves  of  the  sensitive-plant  ex 
panded  at  once,  and  widely,  to  the  genial  influence. 

"  Yes,"  said  William;  "  let's  go." 

So  his  aunt  turned  and  went  back  a  step  or  two,  and 
then  said,  "  You  can  go  and  do  it  without  me.  I'll  wait 
here  till  you  come  back.  I  don't  suppose  you  want  any 
help  from  me.  If  you  do,  I'll  coma" 

"  No,"  said  William,  "  I  can  do  it  alone." 

So  William  ran  on  with  great  alacrity  to  help  the  boys 
clear  the  string,  and  then  came  back  with  a  burning  face 
to  his  aunt,  and  they  walked  on. 


SYMPATHY.  127 

William's  aunt  made  no  further  allusion  to  the  affair  un 
til  the  end  of  the  walk,  and  then,  on  entering  the  gate,  she 
said, "  We  have  had  a  very  pleasant  walk,  and  you  have 
taken  very  good  care  of  me.  And  I  am  glad  we  helped 
those  boys  out  of  their  trouble  with,  the  kite." 

«  So  am  I,"  said  William. 

Analysis  of  the  Incident. 

Now  it  is  possible  that  some  one  may  say  that  William 
was  wrong  in  his  harsh  treatment  of  the  boys,  or  at  least 
in  his  want  of  consideration  for  their  perplexity;  and  that 
liis  aunt,  by  her  mode  of  treating  the  case,  covered  up  the 
wrong,  when  it  ought  to  have  been  brought  distinctly  to 
view  and  openly  amended.  But  when  we  come  to  analyze 
the  case,  we  shall  find  that  it  is  not  at  all  certain  that  there 
was  any  thing  wrong  on  William's  part  in  the  transaction, 
vso  far  as  the  state  of  his  heart,  in  a,  moral  point  of  view, 
is  concerned.  All  such  incidents  are  very  complicated  in 
their  nature,  and  in  their  bearings  and  relations.  They 
present  many  aspects  which  vary  according  to  the  point  of 
view  from  which  they  are  regarded.  Even  grown  people 
do  not  always  see  all  the  different  aspects  of  an  affair  in 
respect  to  which  they  are  called  upon  to  act  or  to  form  an 
opinion,  and  children,  perhaps,  never ;  and  in  judging  their 
conduct,  we  must  always  consider  the  aspect  in  which  the 
action  is  presented  to  their  minds.  In  this  case,  William 
was  thinking  only  of  his  aunt.  He  wished  to  make  her 
walk  convenient  and  agreeable  to  her.  The  boy  disentan 
gling  his  string  on  the  sidewalk  was  to  him,  at  that  time, 
simply  an  obstacle  in  his  aunt's  way,  and  he  dealt  with  it 
as  such,  sending  the  boy  off  as  an  act  of  kindness  and  at 
tention  to  his  aunt  solely.  The  idea  of  a  sentient  being 
suffering  distress  which  he  might  either  increase  by  harsh 
ness  or  relieve  by  help  was  not  present  in  his  mind  at  nil. 


1:28  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

We  may  say  that  he  ought  to  have  thought  of  this.  But 
a  youthful  mind,  still  imperfect  in  its  development,  can  not 
be  expected  to  take  cognizance  at  once  of  all  the  aspects  of 
a,  transaction  which  tends  in  different  directions  to  differ 
ent  results.  It  is  true,  that  he  ought  to  have  thought  of 
the  distress  of  the  boys,  if  we  mean  that  he  ought  to  be 
taught  or  trained  to  think  of  such  distress  when  he  wit 
nessed  it;  and  that  was  exactly  what  his  aunt  was  endeav 
oring  to  do.  We  ourselves  have  learned,  by  long  experi 
ence  of  life,  to  perceive  at  once  the  many  different  aspects 
which  an  affair  may  present,  and  the  many  different  re 
sults  which  may  flow  in  various  directions  from  the  same 
action ;  and  we  often  inconsiderately  blame  children,  sim 
ply  because  their  minds  are  yet  so  imperfectly  developed 
that  they  can  not  take  simultaneous  cognizance  of  more 
than  one  or  two  of  them.  This  is  the  true  philosophy  of 
most  of  what  is  called  heedlessness  in  children,  and  for 
which,  poor  things,  they  receive  so  many  harsh  reprimands 
and  so  much  punishment. 

A  little  girl,  for  example,  undertakes  to  water  her  sister's 
plants.  In  her  praiseworthy  desire  to  do  her  work  well 
and  thoroughly,  she  fills  the  mug  too  full,  and  spills  the  wa 
ter  upon  some  books  that  are  lying  upon  the  table.  The 
explanation  of  the  misfortune  is  simply  that  her  mind  was 
filled,  completely  filled,  with  the  thoughts  of  helping  her 
sister.  The  thought  of  the  possibility  of  spilling  the  water 
did  not  come  into  it  at  all.  There  Mras  no  room  for  it  while 
the  other  thought,  so  engrossing,  was  there ;  and  to  say  that 
she  ought  to  have  thought  of  both  the  results  which  might 
follow  her  action,  is  only  to  say  that  she  ought  to  be  older. 

Sympathy  as  the  Origin  of  childish  Fears. 
The  power  of  sympathy  in  the  mind  of  a  child — that  is, 
its  tendency  to  imbibe  the  opinions  or  sentiments  manifest- 


SYMPATHY.  lr:u 

cd  by  others  in  their  presence — may  be  made  very  effectual, 
not  only  in  inculcating  principles  of  right  and  wrong,  but 
in  relation  to  every  other  idea  or  emotion.  Children  are 
afraid  of  thunder  and  lightning,  or  of  robbers  at  night,  or 
of  ghosts,  because  they  perceive  that  their  parents,  or  older 
brothers  or  sisters,  are  afraid  of  them.  Where  the  parents 
do  not  believe  in  ghosts,  the  children  are  not  afraid  of  them; 
unless,  indeed,  there  are  domestics  in  the  house,  or  play 
mates  at  school,  or  other  companions  from  whom  they  take 
the  contagion.  So,  what  they  see  that  their  parents  value 
they  prize  themselves.  They  imbibe  from  their  playmates 
at  school  a  very  large  proportion  of  their  tastes,  their  opin 
ions,  and  their  ideas,  not  through  arguments  or  reasoning, 
but  from  sympathy ;  and  most  of  the  wrong  or  foolish  no 
tions  of  any  kind  that  they  have  acquired  have  not  been  es 
tablished  in  their  minds  by  false  reasoning,  but  have  been 
taken  by  sympathy,  as  a  disease  is  communicated  by  infec 
tion  ;  and  the  remedy  is  in  most  cases,  not  reasoning,  but  a 
countervailing  sympathy. 

Afraid  of  a  Kitten. 

Little  Jane  was  very  much  afraid  of  a  kitten  which  her 
brother  brought  home — the  first  that  she  had  known.  She 
had,  however,  seen  a  picture  of  a  tiger  or  some  other  feline 
animal  devouring  a  man  in  a  forest,  and  had  been  fright 
ened  by  it ;  and  she  had  heard  too,  perhaps,  of  children  be 
ing  scratched  by  cats  or  kittens.  So,  when  the  kitten  was 
brought  in  and  put  down  on  the  floor,  she  ran  to  her  sister 
in  great  terror,  and  began  to  cry. 

Now  her  sister  might  have  attempted  to  reason  with  her 
by  explaining  the  difference  between  the  kitten  and  the 
wild  animals  of  the  same  class  in  the  woods,  and  by  assur 
ing  her  that  thousands  of  children  have  kittens  to  play  with 
and  are  never  scratched  by  them  so  long  as  they  treat  them 

F2 


130  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

kindly — and  all  without  producing  any  sensible  effect.  But, 
instead  of  this,  she  adopted  a  different  plan.  She  took  the 
child  up  into  her  lap,  and  after  quieting  her  fears,  began  to 
talk  to  the  kitten. 

"  Poor  little  pussy,"  said  she,  "  I  am  glad  you  have  come. 
You  never  scratch  any  body,  I  am  sure,  if  they  are  kind  to 
you.  Jennie  will  give  you  some  milk  some  day,  and  she 
and  I  will  like  to  sec  you  lap  it  up  with  your  pretty  little 
tongue.  And  wre  will  give  you  a  ball  to  play  with  some 
day  upon  the  carpet.  See,  Jennie,  see  !  She  is  going  to 
lie  down  upon  the  rug.  She  is  glad  that  she  has  come  to 
such  a  nice  home.  Now  she  is  putting  her  head  down,  but 
she  has  not  any  pillow  to  lay  it  upon.  Wouldn't  you  like 
a  pillow,  kitty  ?  Jennie  will  make  you  a  pillow  some  day, 
I  am  sure,  if  you  would  like  one.  Jennie  is  beginning  to 
learn  to  sew,  and  she  could  make  you  a  nice  pillow,  and 
stuff  it  with  cotton  wool.  Then  we  can  see  you  lying  down 
upon  the  rug,  with  the  pillow  under  your  head  that  Jennie 
will  have  made  for  you — all  comfortable." 

Such  a  talk  as  this,  though  it  could  not  be  expected  en 
tirely  and  at  once  to  dispel  Jennie's  unfounded  fears,  would 
be  far  more  effectual  towards  beginning  the  desired  change 
than  any  arguments  or  reasoning  could  possibly  be. 

Any  mother  who  will  reflect  upon  the  principle  here  ex 
plained  will  at  once  recall  to  mind  many  examples  and  illus 
trations  of  its  power  over  the  hearts  and  minds  of  children 
which  her  own  experience  has  afforded.  And  if  she  begins 
practically  and  systematically  to  appeal  to  it,  she  will  find 
herself  in  possession  of  a  new  element  of  power — new,  at 
least,  to  her  realization — the  exercise  of  which  will  be  as 
easy  and  agreeable  to  herself  as  it  will  be  effective  in  its 
influence  over  her  children. 


SYMPATHY.  131 


CHAPTER  XI. 

SYMPATHY:— II.  THE  PARENT  WITH  THE  CHILD. 

I  TIIIXK  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  most  effectual 
way  of  securing  the  confidence  and  love  of  children,  and  of 
acquiring  an  ascendency  over  them,  is  by  sympathizing 
with  them  in  their  child-like  hopes  and  fears,  and  joys  and 
sorrows — in  their  ideas,  their  fancies,  and  even  in  their  ca 
prices,  in  all  cases  where  duty  is  not  concerned.  Indeed, 
the  more  child-like,  that  is,  the  more  peculiar  to  the  chil 
dren  themselves,  the  feelings  are  that  we  enter  into  with 
them,  the  closer  is  the  bond  of  kindness  and  affection  that 
is  formed. 

An  Example. 

If  a  gentleman  coming  to  reside  in  a  new  town  concludes 
that  it  is  desirable  that  he  should  be  on  good  terms  with 
the  boys  in  the  streets,  there  are  various  ways  by  which  he 
can  seek  to  accomplish  the  end.  Fortunately  for  him,  the 
simplest  and  easiest  mode  is  the  most  effectual.  On  going 
into  the  village  one  day,  we  will  suppose  he  sees  two  small 
boys  playing  horse.  One  boy  is  horse,  and  the  other  driver. 
As  they  draw  near,  they  check  the  play  a  little,  to  be  more 
decorous  in  passing  by  the  stranger.  He  stops  to  look  at 
them  with  a  pleased  expression  of  countenance,  and  then 
says,  addressing  the  driver,  with  a  face  of  much  serious 
ness,  "  That's  a  first-rate  horse  of  yours.  Would  you  like 
to  sell  him?  He  seems  to  be  very  spirited."  The  horse 
immediately  begins  to  prance  and  caper.  "  You  must  have 
paid  a  high  price  for  him.  You  must  take  gooc]  care  of 


133  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

him.  Give  him  plenty  of  oats,  and  don't  drive  him  hard 
when  it  is  hot  weather.  And  if  ever  you  conclude  to  sell 
him,  I  wish  you  would  let  me  know." 

So  saying,  the  gentleman  walks  on,  and  the  horse,  follow 
ed  by  his  driver,  goes  galloping  forward  in  high  glee. 

Now,  by  simply  manifesting  thus  a  fellow-feeling  with 
the  boys  in  their  childish  play,  the  stranger  not  only  gives  a 
fresh  impulse  to  their  enjoyment  at  the  time,  but  establishes 
a  friendly  relationship  between  them  and  him  which,  with 
out  his  doing  any  thing  to  strengthen  or  perpetuate  it,  will 
of  itself  endure  for  a  long  time.  If  he  does  not  speak  to 
the  boys  again  for  months,  every  time  they  meet  him  they 
will  be  ready  to  greet  him  with  a  smile. 

The  incident  will  go  much  farther  towards  establishing 
friendly  relations  between  him  and  them  than  any  presents 
that  he  could  make  them — except  so  far  as  his  presents 
were  of  such  a  kind,  and  were  given  in  such  a  way,  as  to  be 
expressions  of  kindly  feeling  towards  them — that  is  to  say,, 
such  as  to  constitute  of  themselves  a  manifestation  of  sym 
pathy. 

The  uncle  who  gives  his  nephews  and  nieces  presents,  let 
them  be  ever  so  costly  or  beautiful,  and  takes  no  interest  in 
their  affairs,  never  inspires  them  with  any  feeling  of  per 
sonal  affection.  They  like  him  as  they  like  the  apple-tree 
which  bears  them  sweet  and  juicy  apples,  or  the  cow  that 
gives  them  milk — which  is  on  their  part  a  very  different 
sentiment  from  that  which  they  feel  for  the  kitten  that 
plays  with  them  and  shares  their  joys — or  even  for  their 
dolls,  which  are  only  pictured  in  their  imagination  as  shar 
ing  them. 

Sophronia  andAurelia. 

Miss  Sophronia  calls  at  a  house  to  make  a  visit.  A  child 
of  seven  or  eight  years  of  age  is  playing  upon  the  floor.. 


SYMPATHY.  133 

After  a  little  time,  at  a  pause  in  the  conversation,  she  calls 
the  child — addressing  her  as  "  My  little  girl " — to  come  to 
her.  The  child — a  shade  being  cast  over  her  mind  by  being 
thus  unnecessarily  reminded  of  her  littleness — hesitates  to 
come.  The  mother  says,  "  Come  and  shake  hands  with  the 
lady,  my  dear !"  The  child  comes  reluctantly.  Miss  So- 
phronia  asks  what  her  name  is,  how  old  she  is,  whether  she 
goes  to  school,  what  she  studies  there,  and  whether  she  likes 
to  go  to  school,  and  at  length  releases  her.  The  child,  only 
too  glad  to  be  free  from  such  a  tiresome  visitor,  goes  back 
to  her  play,  and  afterwards  the  only  ideas  she  has  associ 
ated  with  the  person  of  her  visitor  arc  those  relating  to  her 
school  and  her  lessons,  which  may  or  may  not  be  of  an 
agreeable  character. 

Presently,  after  Miss  Sophronia  has  gone,  Miss  Auretia 
comes  in.  After  some  conversation  with  the  mother,  she 
goes  to  see  what  the  child  is  building  with  her  blocks. 
After  looking  on  for  a  moment  with  an  expression  of  inter 
est  in  her  countenance,  she  asks  her  if  she  has  a  doll.  The 
child  says  she  has  four.  Miss  Aurelia  then  asks  which  she 
likes  best,  and  expresses  a  desire  to  see  that  one.  The 
child,  much  pleased,  runs  away  to  bring  it,  and  presently 
comes  back  with  all  four.  Miss  Aurelia  takes  them  in  her 
hands,  examines  them,  talks  about  them,  and  talks  to  them  ; 
and  when  at  last  the  child  goes  back  to  her  play,  she  goes 
with  the  feeling  in  her  heart  that  she  has  found  a  new 
friend. 

Thus,  to  bring  ourselves  near  to  the  hearts  of  children, 
we  must  go  to  them  by  entering  into  their  world.  They 
can  not  come  to  us  by  entering  ours.  They  have  no  expe 
rience  of  it,  and  can  not  understand  it.  But  we  have  had 
experience  of  theirs,  and  can  enter  it  if  we  choose ;  and  in 
that  way  we  bring  ourselves  very  near  to  them. 


134  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

Sympathy  must  be  Sincere. 

But  the  sympathy  which  wo  thus  express  with  children, 
in  order  to  be  effectual,  must  be  sincere  and  genuine,  and 
not  pretended.  We  must  renew  our  own  childish  ideas 
and  imaginations,  and  become  for  the  moment,  in  feeling, 
one  with  them,  so  that  the  interest  which  we  express  in 
what  they  are  saying  or  doing  may  be  real,  and  not  mere 
ly  assumed.  They  seem  to  have  a  natural  instinct  to  dis 
tinguish  between  an  honest  and  actual  sharing  of  their 
thoughts  and  emotions,  and  all  mere  condescension  and 
pretense,  however  adroitly  it  may  be  disguised. 

Want  of  Time. 

Some  mothers  may  perhaps  say  that  they  have  not  time 
thus  to  enter  into  the  ideas  and  occupations  of  their  children. 
They  are  engrossed  with  the  serious  cares  of  life,  or  busy 
with  its  various  occupations.  But  it  does  not  require  time. 
It  is  not  a  question  of  time,  but  of  manner.  The  farmer's 
wife,  for  example,  is  busy  ironing,  or  sewing,  or  preparing 
breakfast  for  her  husband  and  sons,  who  are  expected  ev 
ery  moment  to  come  in  hungry  from  their  work.  Her  lit 
tle  daughter,  ten  years  old,  comes  to  show  her  a  shawl  she 
has  been  making  from  a  piece  of  calico  for  her  doll.  The 
busy  mother  thinks  she  must  say,  "  Yes ;  but  run  away 
now,  Mary ;  I  am  very  busy  !" — because  that  is  the  easiest 
and  quickest  thing  to  say;  but  it  is  just  as  easy  and  just 
as  quick  to  say,  "  What  a  pretty  shawl !  Play  now  that 
you  are  going  to  take  Minette  out  for  a  walk  in  it !"  The 
one  mode  sends  the  child  away  repulsed  and  a  little  disap 
pointed  ;  the  other  pleases  her  and  makes  her  happy,  and 
tends,  moreover,  to  form  a  new  bond  of  union  and  sympathy 
between  her  mother's  heart  and  her  own.  A  merchant, 
engrossed  all  day  in  his  business,  comes  home  to  his  house 


SYMPATHY.  135 

at  dinner-time,  and  meets  his  boy  of  fifteen  on  the  steps 
returning  from  his  school.  "  Well,  James,"  he  says,  as 
they  walk  together  up  stairs,  "I hope  you  have  been  a 
good  boy  at  school  to-day."  James,  not  knowing  what  to 
say,  makes  some  inaudible  or  unmeaning  reply.  His  father 
then  goes  on  to  say  that  he  hopes  his  boy  will  be  diligent 
and  attentive  to  his  studies,  and  improve  his  time  well,  as 
his  future  success  in  life  will  depend  upon  the  use  which  he 
makes  of  his  advantages  while  he  is  young;  and  then  leaves 
him  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  each  to  go  to  his  room. 

All  this  is  very  well.  Advice  given  under  such  circum 
stances  and  in  such  a  way  produces,  undoubtedly,  a  certain 
good  effect,  but  it  does  not  tend  at  all  to  bring  the  father 
and  son  together.  But  if,  instead  of  giving  this  common 
place  advice,  the  father  asks — supposing  it  to  be  winter  at 
the  time  —  "Which  kind  of  skates  are  the  most  popular 
among  the  boys  nowadays,  James?"  Then,  after  hearing 
his  reply,  ha  asks  him  what  his  opinion  is,  and  whether 
any  great  improvement  has  been  made  within  a  short  time, 
and  whether  the  patent  inventions  are  any  of  them  of  much 
consequence.  The  tendency  of  such  a  conversation  as  this, 
equally  brief  with  the  other,  will  be  to  draw  the  father  and 
son  more  together.  Even  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  the  in 
fluence  would  be,  indirectly,  very  salutary;  for  although  no 
moral  counsel  or  instruction  was  given  at  the  time,  the  ef 
fect  of  such  a  participation  in  the  thoughts  with  which  the 
boy's  mind  is  occupied  is  to  strengthen  the  bond  of  union 
between  the  heart  of  the  boy  and  that  of  his  father,  and 
thus  to  make  the  boy  far  more  ready  to  receive  and  be 
guided  by  the  advice  or  admonitions  of  his  father  on  other 
occasions. 

Let  no  one  suppose,  from  these  illustrations,  that  they  are 
intended  to  inculcate  the  idea  that  a  father  is  to  lay  aside 
the  parental  counsels  and  instructions  that  he  has  been  ac- 


130  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

customed  to  give  to  his  children,  and  replace  them  by  talks 
about  skates !  They  are  only  intended  to  show  one  aspect 
of  the  difference  of  effect  produced  by  the  t\vo  kinds  of 
conversation,  and  that  the  father,  if  he  wishes  to  gain  and 
retain  an  influence  over  the  hearts  of  his  boys,  must  de 
scend  sometimes  into  the  world  in  which  they  live,  and 
with  which  their  thoughts  are  occupied,  and  must  enter  it, 
not  merely  as  a  spectator,  or  a  fault-finder,  or  a  counsellor, 
but  as  a  sharer,  to  some  extent,  in  the  ideas  and  feelings 
which  are  appropriate  to  it. 

Ascendency  over  the  Minds  of  Children. 

Sympathizing  with  children  in  their  own  pleasures  and 
enjoyments,  however  childish  tiiey  may  seem  to  us  when 
we  do  not  regard  them,  as  it  were,  with  children's  eyes,  is, 
perhaps,  the  most  powerful  of  all  the  means  at  our  com 
mand  for  gaining  a  powerful  ascendency  over  them.  This 
will  lead  us  not  to  interfere  with  their  own  plans  and  ideas, 
but  to  be  willing  that  they  should  be  happy  in  their  own 
way.  In  respect  to  their  duties,  those  connected,  for  ex 
ample,  with  their  studies,  their  serious  employments,  and 
their  compliance  with  directions  of  any  kind  emanating 
from  superior  authority,  of  course  their  will  must  be  un 
der  absolute  subjection  to  that  of  those  who  are  older  and 
wiser  than  they.  In  all  such  things  they  must  bring  their 
thoughts  and  actions  into  accord  with  ours.  In  these 
things  they  must  come  to  us,  not  we  to  them.  But  in  ev 
ery  thing  that  relates  to  their  child-like  pleasures  and  joys, 
their  modes  of  recreation  and  amusement,  their  playful  ex 
plorations  of  the  mysteries  of  things,  and  the  various  nov 
elties  around  them  in  the  strange  world  into  which  they 
find  themselves  ushered — in  all  these  things  we  must  not 
attempt  to  bring  them  to  us,  but  must  go  to  them.  In 
this,  their  own  sphere,  the  more  perfectly  they  are  at  lib- 


SYMPATHY.  K57 

erty,  tlve  better;  and  if  we  join  them  in  it  at  all,  we  must 
do  so  by  bringing  our  ideas  and  wishes  into  accord  with 
theirs. 

Foolish  Fears. 

The  effect  of  our  sympathy  with  children  in  winning 
their  confidence  and  love,  is  all  the  more  powerful  when  it 
is  exercised  in  cases  where  they  are  naturally  inclined  not 
to  expect  sympathy — that  is,  in  relation  to  feelings  which 
they  would  suppose  that  older  persons  would  be  inclined 
to  condemn.  Perhaps  the  most  striking  example  of  this 
is  in  what  is  commonly  called  foolish  fears.  Now  a  fear 
is  foolish  or  otherwise,  not  according  to  the  absolute  facts 
involving  the  supposed  danger,  but  according  to  the  means 
which  the  person  in  question  lias  of  knowing  the  facts.  A 
lady,  for  example,  in  passing  along  the  sidewalk  of  a  great 
city  comes  to  a  place  where  workmen  are  raising  an  im 
mense  and  ponderous  iron  safe,  which,  slowly  rising,  hangs 
suspended  twenty  feet  above  the  walk.  She  is  afraid  to 
pass  under  it.  The  foreman,  however,  who  is  engaged  in 
directing  the  operation,  passing  freely  to  and  fro  under  the 
impending  weight,  as  he  has  occasion,  and  without  the  least 
concern,  smiles,  perhaps,  at  the  lady's  "  foolish  fears."  But 
the  fears  which  might,  perhaps,  be  foolish  in  him,  are  not 
so  in  her,  since  he  Jcnoics  the  nature  and  the  strength  of 
the  machinery  and  securities  above,  and  she  does  riot,  She 
only  knows  that  accidents  do  sometimes  happen  from  want 
of  due  precaution  in  raising  heavy  weights,  and  she  does 
not  know,  and  has  no  means  of  knowing,  whether  or  not 
the  due  precautions  have  been  taken  in  this  case.  So  she 
manifests  good  sense,  and  not  folly,  in  going  out  of  her  way 
to  avoid  all  possibility  of  danger. 

This  is  really  the  proper  explanation  of  a  large  class  of 
what  are  usually  termed  foolish  fears.  Viewed  in  the  light 


138  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

of  the  individual's  knowledge  of  the  facts  in  the  case,  they 
are  sensible  fears,  and  not  foolish  ones  at  all. 

A  girl  of  twelve,  from  the  city,  spending  the  summer  in 
the  country,  wishes  to  go  down  to  the  river  to  join  her 
brothers  there,  but  is  stopped  by  observing  a  cow  in  a  field 
which  she  has  to  cross.  She  comes  back  to  the  house,  and 
is  there  laughed  at  for  her  foolishness  in  being  "afraid  of 
a  cow !" 

But  why  should  she  not  be  afraid  of  a  cow?  She  has 
heard  stories  of  people  being  gored  by  bulls,  and  sometimes 
by  cows,  and  she  has  no  means  whatever  of  estimating  the 
reality  or  the  extent  of  the  danger  in  any  particular  case. 
The  farmer's  daughters,  however,  who  laugh  at  her,  know 
the  cow  in  question  perfectly  well.  They  have  milked  her, 
and  fed  her,  and  tied  her  up  to  her  manger  a  hundred 
times;  so,  while  it  would  be  a  very  foolish  thing  for  them 
to  be  afraid  to  cross  a  field  where  the  cow  was  feeding,  it 
is  a  very  sensible  thing  for  the  stranger-girl  from  the  city 
to  be  so. 

Nor  would  it  certainly  change  the  case  much  for  the 
child,  if  the  farmer's  girls  were  to  assure  her  that  the  cow 
was  perfectly  peaceable,  and  that  there  was  no  danger ;  for 
she  does  not  know  the  girls  any  better  than  she  does  the 
cow,  and  can  not  judge  how  far  their  statements  or  opin 
ions  are  to  be  relied  upon.  It  may  possibly  not  be  the  cow 
they  think  it  is.  They  are  very  positive,  it  is  true;  but 
very  positive  people  are  often  mistaken.  Besides,  the  cow 
may  be  peaceable  with  them,  and  yet  be  disposed  to  attack 
a  stranger.  What  a  child  requires  in  such  a  case  is  sym 
pathy  and  help,  not  ridicule. 

This,  in  the  case  supposed,  she  meets  in  the  form  of  the 
farmer's  son,  a  young  man  browned  in  face  and  plain  in 
attire,  who  comes  along  while  she  stands  loitering  at  the 
fence  looking  at  the  cow,  and  not  daring  after  all,  notwith- 


SYMPATHY.  141 

standing  the  assurances  she  has  received  at  the  house,  to 
cross  the  field.  His  name  is  Joseph,  and  he  is  a  natural 
gentleman — a  class  of  persons  of  whom  a  much  larger  num 
ber  is  found  in  this  humble  guise,  and  a  much  smaller  num 
ber  in  proportion  among  the  fashionables  in  elegant  life, 
than  is  often  supposed.  "  Yes,"  says  Joseph,  after  hearing 
the  child's  statement  of  the  case,  "you  are  right.  Cows 
are  sometimes  vicious,  I  know  ;  and  you  are  perfectly  right 
to  be  on  your  guard  against  such  as  you  do  not  know  when 
you  meet  them  in  the  country.  This  one,  as  it  happens,  is 
very  kind ;  but  still,  I  will  go  through  the  field  with  you." 

So  he  goes  with  her  through  the  field,  stopping  on  the 
way  to  talk  a  little  to  the  cow,  and  to  feed  her  with  an 
apple  which  he  has  in  his  pocket. 

It  is  in  this  spirit  that  the  fears,  and  antipathies,  and  false 
imaginations  of  children  are  generally  to  be  dealt  writh ; 
though,  of  course,  there  may  be  many  exceptions  to  the 
general  rule. 

When  Children  are  in  the  Wrong. 

There  is  a  certain  sense  in  which  we  should  feel  a  sym 
pathy  with  children  in  the  wrong  that  they  do.  It  would 
seem  paradoxical  to  say  that  in  any  sense  there  should  be 
sympathy  with  sin,  and  yet  there  is  a  sense  in  which  this  is 
true,  though  perhaps,  strictly  speaking,  it  is  sympathy  with 
the  trial  and  temptation  which  led  to  the  sin,  rather  than 
with  the  act  of  transgression  itself.  In  whatever  light  a 
nice  metaphysical  analysis  would  lead  us  to  regard  it,  it  is 
certain  that  the  most  successful  efforts  that  have  been  made 
by  philanthropists  for  reaching  the  hearts  and  reforming 
the  conduct  of  criminals  and  malefactors  have  been  prompt 
ed  by  a  feeling  of  compassion  for  them,  not  merely  for  the 
sorrows  and  sufferings  wrhich  they  have  brought  upon 
themselves  by  their  wrong-doing,  but  for  the  mental  con- 


H3  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

fiicts  which  they  endured,  the  fierce  impulses  of  appetite 
and  passion,  more  or  less  connected  with  and  dependent 
upon  the  material  condition  of  the  bodily  organs,  under 
the  onset  of  which  their  feeble  moral  sense,  never  really 
brought  into  a  condition  of  health  and  vigor,  was  over 
borne.  These  merciful  views  of  the  diseased  condition  and 
action  of  the  soul  in  the  commission  of  crime  are  not  only 
in  themselves  right  views  for  man  to  take  of  the  crimes  and 
sins  of  his  fellow-man,  but  they  lie  at  the  foundation  of  all 
effort  that  can  afford  any  serious  hope  of  promoting  refor 
mation. 

This  principle  is  eminently  true  in  its  application  to  chil 
dren.  They  need  the  influence  of  a  kind  and  considerate 
sympathy  when  they  have  done  wrong,  more,  perhaps,  than 
at. any  other  time;  and  the  effects  of  the  proper  manifesta 
tion  of  this  sympathy  on  the  part  of  the  mother  will,  per 
haps,  be  greater  and  more  salutary  in  this  case  than  in  any 
other.  Of  course  the  sympathy  must  be  of  the  right  kind, 
and  must  be  expressed  in  the  right  way,  so  as  not  to  allow 
the  tenderness  or  compassion  for  the  wrong-doer  to  be  mis 
taken  for  approval  or  justification  of  the  wrong. 

Case  supposed. 

A  boy,  for  instance,  comes  home  from  school  in  a  state 
of  great  distress,  and  perhaps  of  indignation  and  resent 
ment,  on  account  of  having  been  punished.  Mothers  some 
times  say  at  once,  in  such  a  case,  "  I  don't  pity  you  at  all. 
I  have  no  doubt  you  deserved  it."  This  only  increases  the 
tumult  of  commotion  in  the  boy's  mind,  without  at  all  tend 
ing  to  help  him  to  feel  a  sense  of  his  guilt.  His  mind,  still 
imperfectly  developed,  can  not  take  cognizance  simultane 
ously  of  all  the  parts  and  all  the  aspects  of  a  complicated 
transaction.  The  sense  of  his  wrong-doing,  which  forms  in 
his  teacher's  and  in  his  mother's  mind  so  essential  a  part 


SYMPATHY.  U3 

of  the  transaction,  is  not  present  in  his  conceptions  at  all. 
There  is  no  room  for  it,  so  totally  engrossed  are  all  his  fac 
ulties  with  the  stinging  recollections  of  suffering,  the  tu 
multuous  emotions  of  anger  and  resentment,  and  now  with 
the  additional  thought  that  even  his  mother  has  taken  part 
against  him.  The  mother's  conception  of  the  transaction 
is  equally  limited  and  imperfect,  though  in  a  different  way. 
She  thinks  only  that  if  she  were  to  treat  the  child  with 
kindness  and  sympathy,  she  would  be  taking  the  part  of  ;i 
bad  boy  against  his  teacher;  whereas,  in  reality,  she  might 
do  it  in  such  a  way  as  only  to  be  taking  the  part  of  a  suf 
fering  boy  against  his  pain. 

It  would  seem  that  the  true  and  proper  course  for  a 
mother  to  take  with  a  child  in  such  a  case  would  be  to 
soothe  and  calm  his  agitation,  and  to  listen,  if  need  be,  to 
his  account  of  the  affair,  without  questioning  or  controvert 
ing  it  at  ail,  however  plainly  she  may  see  that,  under  the 
blinding  and  distorting  influence  of  his  excitement,  he  is 
misrepresenting  the  facts.  Let  him  tell  his  story.  Listen 
to  it  patiently  to  the  end.  It  is  not  necessary  to  express 
or  even  to  form  an  opinion  on  the  merits  of  it.  The  ready 
and  willing  hearing  of  one  side  of  a  case  does  riot  commit 
the  tribunal  to  a  decision  in  favor  of  that  side.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  the  only  way  to  give  weight  and  a  sense 
of  impartiality  to  a  decision  against  it. 

Thus  the  mother  may  sympathize  with  her  boy  in  his 
troubles,  appreciate  fully  the  force  of  the  circumstances 
which  led  him  into  the  wrong,  and  help  to  soothe  and 
calm  his  agitation,  and  thus  take  his  part,  and  place  her 
self  closely  to  him  in  respect  to  his  suffering,  without  com 
mitting  herself  at  all  in  regard  to  the  original  cause  of  it; 
and  then,  at  a  subsequent  time,  when  the  tumult  of  his 
soul  has  subsided,  she  can,  if  she  thinks  best,  far  more  easi 
ly  and  effectually  lead  him  to  see  wherein  he  was  wrong. 


U4  GENTLE  MEASURES. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
COMMENDATION  AND  ENCOURAGEMENT. 

WE  arc  very  apt  to  imagine  that  the  disposition  to  do 
right  is,  or  ought  to  be,  the  natural  and  normal  condition 
of  childhood,  and  that  doing  wrong  is  something  unnatural 
and  exceptional  with  children.  As  a  consequence,  when 
they  do  right  we  think  there  is  nothing  to  be  said.  That 
is,  or  ought  to  be,  a  matter  of  course.  It  is  only  when 
they  do  wrong  that  we  notice  their  conduct,  and  then,  of 
course,  with  censure  and  reproaches.  Thus  our  discipline 
consists  mainly,  not  in  gently  leading  and  encouraging 
them  in  the  right  way,  but  in  deterring  them,  by  fault-find 
ing  and  punishment,  from  going  wrong. 

Now  we  ought  not  to  forget  that  in  respect  to  moral  con 
duct  as  well  as  to  mental  attainments  children  know  noth 
ing  when  they  come  into  the  world,  but  have  every  thing 
to  learn,  either  from  the  instructions  or  from  the  example 
of  those  around  them.  We  do  not  propose  to  enter  at  all 
into  the  consideration  of  the  various  theological  and  meta 
physical  theories  held  by  different  classes  of  philosophers 
in  respect  to  the  native  constitution  and  original  tenden 
cies  of  the  human  soul,  but  to  look  at  the  phenomena  of 
mental  and  moral  action  in  a  plain  and  practical  way,  as 
they  present  themselves  to  the  observation  of  mothers  in 
the  every-day  walks  of  life.  And  in  order  the  better  to 
avoid  any  complication  with  these  theories,  we  will  take 
first  an  extremely  simple  case,  namely,  the  fault  of  making 
too  much  noise  in  opening  and  shutting  the  door  in  going 
in  and  out  of  a  room.  Georgie  and  Charlie  are  two  boys, 


COMMENDATION  AND  ENCOURAGEMENT.  145 

both  about  five  years  old,  and  both  prone  to  the  same  fault. 
We  will  suppose  that  their  mothers  take  opposite  methods 
to  correct  them;  Georgie's  mother  depending  upon  the  in 
fluence  of  commendation  and  encouragement  when  he  does 
right,  and  Charlie's,  upon  the  efficacy  of  reproaches  and 
punishments  when  lie  does  wrong. 

One  Method. 

Georgie,  eager  to  ask  his  mother  some  question,  or  to 
obtain  some  permission  in  respect  to  his  play,  bursts  into 
her  room  some  morning  with  great  noise,  opening  and 
shutting  the  door  violently,  and  making  much  disturbance. 
In  a  certain  sense  he  is  not  to  blame  for  this,  for  he  is 
wholly  unconscious  of  the  disturbance  he  makes.  The  en 
tire  cognizant  capacity  of  his  mind  is  occupied  with  the 
object  of  his  request.  He  not  only  had  no  intention  of 
doing  any  harm,  but  has  no  idea  of  his  having  done  any. 

His  mother  takes  no  notice  of  the  noise  he  made,  but 
answers  his  question,  and  he  goes  away  making  almost  as 
much  noise  in  going  out  as  he  did  in  coming  in. 

The  next  time  he  comes  in  it  happens — entirely  by  acci 
dent,  we  will  suppose — that  he  makes  a  little  less  noise  than 
before.  This  furnishes  his  mother  with  her  opportunity. 

"Georgie,"  she  says,  "I  see  you  are  improving." 

"Improving?"  repeats  Georgie,  not  knowing  to  what  his 
mother  refers. 

"Yes,"  said  his  mother;  "you  are  improving,  in  coming 
into  the  room  without  making  a  noise  by  opening  and 
shutting  the  door.  You  did  not  make  nearly  as  much 
noise  this  time  as  you  did  before  when  you  came  in.  Some 
boys,  whenever  they  come  into  a  room,  make  so  much  noise 
in  opening  and  shutting  the  door  that  it  is  very  disagree 
able.  If  you  go  on  improving  as  you  have  begun,  you  will 
soon  come  in  as  still  as  any  gentleman." 

G 


146  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

The  next  time  that  Georgic  comes  in,  he  takes  the  utmost 
pains  to  open  and  shut  the  door  as  silently  as  possible. 

He  makes  his  request.  His  mother  shows  herself  un 
usually  ready  to  grant  it. 

"  You  opened  and  shut  the  door  like  a  gentleman,"  she 
says.  "  I  ought  to  do  every  thing  for  you  that  I  can,  when 
you  take  so  much  pains  not  to  disturb  or  trouble  me." 

Another  Method. 

Charlie's  mother,  on  the  other  hand,  acts  on  a  different 
principle.  Charlie  comes  in  sometimes,  we  will  suppose, 
in  a  quiet  and  proper  manner.  His  mother  takes  no  notice 
of  this.  She  considers  it  a  matter  of  course.  By-and-by, 
however,  under  the  influence  of  some  special  eagerness,  he 
makes  a  great  noise.  Then  his  mother  interposes.  She 
breaks  out  upon  him  with, 

"  Charlie,  what  a  noise  you  make !  Don't  you  know  bet 
ter  than  to  slam,  the  doer  in  that  way  when  you  come  in  ? 
If  you  can't  learn  to  make  less  noise  in  going  in  and  out, 
I  shall  not  let  you  go  in  and  out  at  all." 

Charlie  knows  very  well  that  this  is  an  empty  threat. 
Still,  the  utterance  of  it,  and  the  scolding  that  accompanies 
it,  irritate  him  a  little,  and  the  only  possible  good  effect 
that  can  be  expected  to  result  from  it  is  to  make  him  try, 
the  next  time  he  comes  in,  to  see  how  small  an  abatement 
of  the  noise  he  usually  makes  will  do,  as  a  kind  of  make- 
believe  obedience  to  his  mother's  command.  He  might,  in 
deed,  honestly  answer  his  mother's  angry  question  by  say 
ing  that  he  does  not  know  better  than  to  make  such  a 
noise.  He  does  not  know  why  the  noise  of  the  door 
should  be  disagreeable  to  his  mother.  It  is  not  disagree 
able  to  him.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  agreeable.  Children 
always  like  noise,  especially  if  they  make  it  themselves. 
And  although  Charlie  has  often  been  told  that  he  must  not 


COMMENDATION  AND  ENCOURAGEMENT  147 

make  any  noise,  the  reason  for  this — namely,  that  though 
noise  is  a  source  of  pleasure,  generally,  to  children,  especial* 
ly  when  they  make  it  themselves,  it  is  almost  always  a 
source  of  annoyance  and  pain  to  grown  persons — has  never 
really  entered  his  mind  so  as  to  be  actually  comprehended 
as  a  practical  reality.  His  ideas  in  respect  to  the  philos 
ophy  of  the  transaction  are,  of  course,  exceedingly  vague ; 
but  so  far  as  he  forms  any  idea,  it  is  that  his  mother's 
words  are  the  expression  of  some  mysterious  but  unreason 
able  sensitiveness  on  her  part,  which  awakens  in  her  a  spirit 
of  fault-finding  and  ill-humor  that  vents  itself  upon  him  in 
blaming  him  for  nothing  at  all ;  or,  as  he  would  express  it 
more  tersely,  if  not  so  elegantly,  that  she  is  "  very  cross." 
In  other  words,  the  impression  made  by  the  transaction 
upon  his  moral  sense  is  that  of  wrong-doing  on  his  moth 
er's  part,  and  not  at  all  on  his  own. 

It  is  evident,  when  we  thus  look  into  the  secret  workings 
of  this  method  of  curing  children  of  their  faults,  that  even 
when  it  is  successful  in  restraining  certain  kinds  of  outward 
misconduct,  and  is  thus  the  means  of  effecting  some  small 
amount  of  good,  the  injury  which  it  does  by  its  reaction 
on  the  spirit  of  the  child  may  be  vastly  greater,  through 
the  irritation  and  ill-humor  which  it  occasions,  and  the  im 
pairing  of  his  confidence  in  the  justice  and  goodness  of  his 
mother.  Before  leaving  this  illustration,  it  must  be  care 
fully  observed  that  in  the  first -mentioned  case  —  namely, 
that  of  Georgie — the  work  of  curing  the  fault  in  question 
is  not  to  be  at  all  considered  as  effected  by  the  step  taken 
by  his  mother  which  has  been  already  described.  That 
was  only  a  beginning — a  right  beginning,  it  is  true,  but  still 
only  a  beginning.  It  produced  in  him  a  cordial  willing 
ness  to  do  right,  in  one  instance.  That  is  a  great  thing, 
but  it  is,  after  all,  only  one  single  step.  The  work  is  not 
complete  until  a  habit  of  doing  right  is  formed,  which  is 


148  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

another  thing  altogether,  and  requires  special  and  continual 
measures  directed  to  this  particular  end.  Children  have  to 
be  trained  in  the  way  they  should  go — not  merely  shown 
the  way,  and  induced  to  make  a  beginning  of  entering  it. 
We  will  now  try  to  show  how  the  influence  of  commenda 
tion  and  encouragement  may  be  brought  into  action  in  this 
more  essential  part  of  the  process. 

Habit  to  be  Formed. 

Having  taken  the  first  step  already  described,  Georgie's 
mother  finds  some  proper  opportunity,  when  she  can  have 
the  undisturbed  and  undivided  attention  of  her  boy — per 
haps  at  night,  after  he  has  gone  to  his  crib  or  his  trundle- 
bed,  and  just  before  she  leaves  him;  or,  perhaps,  at  some 
time  while  she  is  at  work,  and  he  is  sitting  by  her  side, 
with  his  mind  calm,  quiet,  and  unoccupied. 

"  Georgie,"  she  says,  "  I  have  a  plan  to  propose  to  you." 

Georgie  is  eager  to  know  what  it  is. 

"  You  know  how  pleased  I  was  when  you  came  in  so 
still  to-day." 

Georgie  remembers  it  very  well. 

"  It  is  very  curious,  "  continued  his  mother,  "  that  there 
is  a  great  difference  between  grown  people  and  children 
about  noise.  Children  like  almost  all  kinds  of  noises  very 
much,  especially,  if  they  make  the  noises  themselves ;  but 
grown  people  dislike  them  even  more,  I  think,  than  chil 
dren  like  them.  If  there  were  a  number  of  boys  in  the 
house,  and  I  should  tell  them  that  they  might  run  back  and 
forth  through  the  rooms,  and  rattle  and  slam  all  the  doors 

O  7 

as  they  went  as  loud  as  they  could,  they  would  like  it  very 
much.  They  would  think  it  excellent  fun." 

"  Yes,"  says  Georgie,  "  indeed,  they  would.  I  wish  you 
would  let  us  do  it  some  day." 

"But  grown  people,"  continues  his  mother,  "would  not 


COMMENDATION  AND  ENCOURAGEMENT  149 

like  such  an  amusement  at  all.  On  the  contrary,  such  a 
racket  would  be  excessively  disagreeable  to  them,  whether 
they  made  it  themselves  or  whether  somebody  else  made 
it.  So,  when  children  come  into  a  room  where  grown  peo 
ple  are  sitting,  and  make  a  noise  in  opening  and  shutting 
the  door,  it  is  very  disagreeable.  Of  course,  grown  people 
always  like  those  children  the  best  that  come  into  a  room 
quietly,  and  in  a  gentlemanly  and  lady-like  manner." 

As  this  explanation  comes  in  connection  with  Georgie's 
having  done  right,  and  with  the  commendation  which  he 
has  received  for  it,  his  mind  and  heart  are  open  to  receive 
it,  instead  of  being  disposed  to  resist  and  exclude  it,  as  he 
would  have  been  if  the  same  things  exactly  had  been  said 
to  him  in  connection  with  censure  and  reproaches  for  hav 
ing  acted  in  violation  of  the  principle. 

"  Yes,  mother,"  says  he,  "  and  I  mean  always  to  open  and 
shut  the  door  as  still  as  I  can." 

"  Yes,  I  know  you  mean  to  do  so,"  rejoined  his  mother, 
"  but  you  will  forget,  unless  you  have-  some  plan  to  make 
you  remember  it  until  the  habit  is  formed.  Now  I  have  a 
plan  to  propose  to  help  you  form  the  habit.  When  you  get 
the  habit  once  formed  there  will  be  no  more  difficulty. 

"  The  plan  is  this :  whenever  you  come  into  a  room  mak 
ing  a  noise,  I  will  simply  say,  Noise.  Then  you  will  step 
back  again  softly  and  shut  the  door,  and  then  come  in  again 
in  a  quiet  and  proper  way.  You  will  not  go  back  for  pun 
ishment,  for  you  would  not  have  made  the  noise  on  pur 
pose,  and  so  would  not  deserve  any  punishment.  It  is  only 
to  help  you  remember,  and  so  to  form  the  habit  of  coming 
into  a  room  in  a  quiet  and  gentlemanly  manner." 

Now  Georgie,  especially  if  all  his  mother's  management 
of  him  is  conducted  in  this  spirit,  will  enter  into  this  plan 
with  great  cordiality. 

"I  should  not  propose  this  plan,"  continued  his  mother, 


ISO  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

"  if  I  thought  that  when  I  say  Noise,  and  you  have  to  go 
out  and  come  in  again,  it  would  put  you  out  of  humor,  and 
make  you  cross  or  sullen.  I  am  sure  you  will  be  good-na 
tured  about  it,  and  even  if  you  consider  it  a  kind  of  punish 
ment,  that  you  will  go  out  willingly,  and  take  the  punish 
ment  like  a  man ;  and  when  you  come  in  again  you  will 
come  in  still,  and  look  pleased  and  happy  to  find  that  you 
are  carrying  out  the  plan  honorably." 

Then  if,  on  the  first  occasion  when  he  is  sent  back,  he 
does  take  it  good-naturedly,  this  must  be  noticed  and  com 
mended. 

Now,  unless  we  are  entirely  wrong  in  all  our  ideas  of  the 
nature  and  tendencies  of  the  infantile  mind,  it  is  as  certain 
that  a  course  of  procedure  like  this  will  be  successful  in 
curing  the  fault  which  is  the  subject  of  treatment,  as  that 
water  will  extinguish  fire.  It  cures  it,  too,  without  occa 
sioning  any  irritation,  annoyance,  or  ill-humor  in  the  mind 
either  of  mother  or  child.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  source 
of  real  satisfaction  and  pleasure  to  them  both,  and  increases 
and  strengthens  the  bond  of  sympathy  by  which  their  hearts 
are  united  to  each  other. 

The  Principle  involved. 

It  must  be  understood  distinctly  that  this  case  is  given 
only  as  an  illustration  of  a  principle  which  is  applicable  to 
all  cases.  The  act  of  opening  and  shutting  a  door  in  a 
noisy  manner  is  altogether  too  insignificant  a  fault  to  de 
serve  this  long  discussion  of  the  method  of  curing  it,  were 
it  not  that  methods  founded  on  the  same  principles,  and 
conducted  in  the  same  spirit,  are  applicable  universally  in 
all  that  pertains  to  the  domestic  management  of  children. 
And  it  is  a  method,  too,  directly  the  opposite  of  that  which 
is  often — I  will  not  say  generally,  but  certainly  very  often 
—pursued.  The  child  tells  the  truth  many  times,  and  in 


COMMENDATION  AND  ENCOURAGEMENT.  l.'l 

some  cases,  perhaps,  when  the  inducement  was  very  strong 
to  tell  an  untruth.  We  take  no  notice  of  these  cases,  con 
sidering  it  a  matter  of  course  that  he  should  tell  the  truth. 
We  reserve  our  action  altogether  for  the  first  case  when, 
overcome  by  a  sudden  temptation,  he  tells  a  lie,  and  then 
interpose  with  reproaches  and  punishment.  Nineteen  times 
he  gives  up  what  belongs  to  his  little  brother  or  sister  of 
his  own  accord,  perhaps  after  a  severe  internal  struggle. 
The  twentieth  time  the  result  of  the  struggle  goes  the 
wrong  way,  and  he  attempts  to  retain  by  violence  what 
does  not  belong  to  him.  We  take  no  notice  of  the  nine 
teen  cases  when  the  little  fellow  did  right,  but  come  and 
box  his  ears  in  the  one  case  when  he  does  wronc:. 

CD 

Origin  of  the  Error. 

The  idea  on  which  this  mode  of  treatment  is  founded — 
namely,  that  it  is  a  matter  of  course  that  children  should 
do  right,  so  that  when  they  do  right  there  is  nothing  to  be 
said,  and  that  doing  wrong  is  the  abnormal  condition  and 
exceptional  action  which  alone  requires  the  parent  to  inter 
fere — is,  to  a  great  extent,  a  mistake.  Indeed,  the  matter  of 
course  is  all  the  other  way.  A  babe  will  seize  the  plaything 
of  another  babe  without  the  least  compunction  long  after  it 
is  keenly  alive  to  the  injustice  and  wrongfulness  of  having 
its  own  playthings  taken  by  any  other  child.  So  in  regard 
to  truth.  The  first  impulse  of  all  children,  when  they  have 
just  acquired  the  use  of  language,  is  to  use  it  in  such  a  way 
as  to  effect  their  object  for  the  time  being,  without  any 
sense  of  the  sacred  obligation  of  making  the  words  always 
correspond  truly  with  the  facts.  The  principles  of  doing 
justice  to  the  rights  of  others  to  one's  own  damage,  and  of 
speaking  the  truth  when  falsehood  would  serve  the  present 
purpose  better,  are  principles  that  are  developed  or  acquired 
by  slow  degrees,  and  at  a  later  period.  I  say  developed  of 


153  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

acquired — for  different  classes  of  metaphysicians  and  theo 
logians  entertain  different  theories  in  respect  to  the  way  by 
which  the  ideas  of  right  and  of  duty  enter  into  the  human 
mind.  But  all  will  agree  in  this,  that  whatever  may  be  the 
origin  of  the  moral  sense  in  man,  it  does  not  appear  as  a, 
practical  element  of  control  for  the  conduct  till  some  time 
after  the  animal  appetites  and  passions  have  begun  to  exer 
cise  their  power.  Whether  we  regard  this  sense  as  arising 
from  a  development  within  of  a  latent  principle  of  the  soul, 
or  as  an  essential  element  of  the  inherited  and  native  consti 
tution  of  man,  though  remaining  for  a  time  embryonic  and 
inert,  or  as  a  habit  acquired  under  the  influence  of  instruc 
tion  and  example,  all  will  admit  that  the  period  of  its  appear 
ance  as  a  perceptible  motive  of  action  is  so  delayed,  and  the 
time  required  for  its  attaining  sufficient  strength  to  exercise 
any  real  and  effectual  control  over  the  conduct  extends  over 
so  many  of  the  earlier  years  of  life,  that  no  very  material 
help  in  governing  the  appetites  and  passions  and  impulses 
can  be  reasonably  expected  from  it  at  a  very  early  period. 
Indeed,  conscience,  so  far  as  its  existence  is  manifested  at 
all  in  childhood,  seems  to  show  itself  chiefly  in  the  form 
of  the  simple  fear  of  detection  in  what  there  is  reason  to 
suppose  will  lead,  if  discovered,  to  reproaches  or  punish 
ment. 

At  any  rate,  the  moral  sense  in  childhood,  whatever  may 
be  our  philosophy  in  respect  to  the  origin  and  the  nature 
of  it,  can  not  be  regarded  as  a  strong  and  settled  principle 
on  which  we  can  throw  the  responsibility  of  regulating  the 
conduct,  and  holding  it  sternly  to  its  obligations.  It  is,  on 
the  contrary,  a  very  tender  plant,  slowly  coming  forward  to 
the  development  of  its  beauty  and  its  power,  and  requiring 
the  most  gentle  fostering  and  care  on  the  part  of  those  in 
trusted  with  the  training  of  the  infant  mind;  and  the  in 
fluence  of  commendation  and  encouragement  when  the  em- 


f  OMXEXDA  TION  AND  ENCO  URA  OEMENT.  153 

bryo  monitor  succeeds  in  its  incipient  and  feeble  efforts, 
will  be  far  more  effectual  in  promoting  its  development, 
than  that  of  censure  and  punishment  when  it  fails. 

Important  Caution. 

For  every  good  thing  there  seems  to  be  something  in  its 
form  and  semblance  that  is  spurious  and  bad.  The  prin 
ciple  brought  to  view  in  this  chapter  has  its  counterfeit  in 
the  indiscriminate  praise  and  flattery  of  children  by  their 
parents,  which  only  makes  them  self -conceited  and  vain, 
without  at  all  promoting  any  good  end.  The  distinction 
between  the  two  might  be  easily  pointed  out,  if  time  and 
space  permitted ;  but  the  intelligent  parent,  who  has  rightly 
comprehended  the  method  of  management  here  described, 
and  the  spirit  in  which  the  process  of  applying  it  is  to  be 
made,  will  be  in  no  danger  of  confounding  one  with  the 
other. 

This  principle  of  noticing  and  commending,  within  prop 
er  limits  and  restrictions,  what  is  right,  rather  than  finding 
fault  with  what  is  wrong,  will  be  found  to  be  as  important 
in  the  work  of  instruction  as  in  the  regulation  of  conduct. 
We  have,  in  fact,  a  very  good  opportunity  of  comparing 
the  two  systems,  as  it  is  a  curious  fact  that  in  certain 
things  it  is  almost  the  universal  custom  to  adopt  one 
method,  and  in  certain  others,  the  other. 

The  two  Methods  exemplified. 

There  are,  for  example,  two  arts  which  children  have  to 
learn,  in  the  process  of  their  mental  and  physical  develop 
ment,  in  which  their  faults,  errors,  and  deficiencies  are  nev 
er  pointed  out,  but  in  the  dealings  of  their  parents  with 
them  all  is  commendation  and  encouragement.  They  are 
the  arts  of  walking  and  talking. 

The  first  time  that  a  child  attempts  to  walk  alone,  what 
G2 


154  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

a  feeble,  staggering,  and  awkward  exhibition  it  makes. 
And  yet  its  mother  shows,  by  the  excitement  of  her  coun 
tenance,  and  the  delight  expressed  by  her  exclamations, 
how  pleased  she  is  with  the  performance ;  and  she,  per 
haps,  even  calls  in  persons  from  the  next  room  to  see  how 
well  the  baby  can  walk  !  Not  a  word  about  imperfections 
and  failings,  not  a  word  about  the  tottering,  the  awkward 
reaching  out  of  arms  to  preserve  the  balance,  the  crooked 
ness  of  the  way,  the  anxious  expression  of  the  countenance, 
or  any  other  faults.  These  are  left  to  correct  themselves 
by  the  continued  practice  which  encouragement  is  sure  to 
lead  to. 

It  is  true  that  words  would  not  be  available  in  such  a 
case  for  fault-finding;  for  a  child  when  learning  to  walk 
would  be  too  young  to  understand  them.  But  the  parent's 
sense  of  the  imperfections  of  the  performance  might  be  ex 
pressed  in  looks  and  gestures  which  the  child  would  un 
derstand  ;  but  he  sees,  on  the  contrary,  nothing  but  indi 
cations  of  satisfaction  and  pleasure,  and  it  is  very  manifest 
how  much  he  is  encouraged  by  them.  Seeing  the  pleasure 
which  his  efforts  give  to  the  spectators,  he  is  made  proud 
and  happy  by  his  success,  and  goes  on  making  efforts  to 
improve  with  alacrity  and  delight. 

It  is  the  same  with  learning  to  talk.  The  mistakes,  de 
ficiencies,  and  errors  of  the  first  rude  attempts  are  seldom 
noticed,  and  still  more  seldom  pointed  out  by  the  parent. 
On  the  contrary,  the  child  takes  the  impression,  from  the 
readiness  with  which  its  words  are  understood  and  the  de 
light  it  evidently  gives  its  mother  to  hear  them,  that  it  is 
going  on  triumphantly  in  its  work  of  learning  to  talk,  in 
stead  of  feeling  that  its  attempts  are  only  tolerated  because 
they  are  made  by  such  a  little  child,  and  that  they  require 
a  vast  amount  of  correction,  alteration,  and  improvement, 
before  they  will  be  at  all  satisfactory.  Indeed,  so  far  from 


COMMENDATION  AND  ENCOURAGEMENT.  155 

criticising  and  pointing  out  the  errors  and  faults,  the  moth 
er  very  frequently  meets  the  child  half  way  in  its  progress, 
by  actually  adopting  the  faults  and  errors  herself  in  her 
replies.  So  that  when  the  little  beginner  in  the  use  of  lan 
guage,  as  he  wakes  up  in  his  crib,  and  stretching  out  his 
hands  to  his  mother  says,  "  I  want  to  det  up"  she  comes  to 
take  him,  and  replies,  her  face  beaming  with  delight,  "  My 
little  darling!  you  shall  det  up  f*  thus  filling  his  mind 
with  happiness  at  the  idea  that  his  mother  is  not  only 
pleased  that  he  attempts  to  speak,  but  is  fully  satisfied,  and 
more  than  satisfied,  with  his  success. 

The  result  is,  that  in  learning  to  walk  and  to  talk,  chil 
dren  always  go  forward  with  alacrity  and  ardor.  They 
practise  continually  and  spontaneously,  requiring  no  prom 
ises  of  reward  to  allure  them  to  effort,  and  no  threats  of 
punishment  to  overcome  repugnance  or  aversion.  It  might 
be  too  much  to  say  that  the  rapidity  of  their  progress  and 
the  pleasure  which  they  experience  in  making  it,  are  owing 
wholly  to  the  commendation  and  encouragement  they  re 
ceive — for  other  causes  may  co-operate  with  these.  But  it 
is  certain  that  these  influences  contribute  very  essentially 
to  the  result.  There  can  be  no  doubt  at  all  that  if  it  were 
possible  for  a  mother  to  stop  her  child  in  its  efforts  to  learn 
to  walk  and  to  talk,  and  explain  to  it,  no  matter  how  kind 
ly,  all  its  shortcomings,  failures,  and  mistakes,  and  were  to 
make  this  her  daily  and  habitual  practice,  the  consequence 
would  be,  not  only  a  great  diminution  of  the  ardor  and  ani 
mation  of  the  little  pupil,  in  pressing  forward  in  its  work, 
but  also  a  great  retardation  in  its  progress. 

Example  of  the  other  Method. 

Let  us  now,  for  the  more  full  understanding  of  the  sub 
ject,  go  to  the  other  extreme,  and  consider  a  case  in  which 
the  management  is  as  far  as  possible  removed  from  that 


156  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

above  referred  to.  We  can  not  have  a  better  example  than 
the  method  often  adopted  in  schools  and  seminaries  for 
teaching  composition ;  in  other  words,  the  art  of  express 
ing  one's  thoughts  in  written  language — an  art  which  one 
would  suppose  to  be  so  analogous  to  that  of  learning  to 
talk — that  is,  to  express  one's  thoughts  in  oral  language — 
that  the  method  which  was  found  so  eminently  successful 
in  the  one  would  be  naturally  resorted  to  in  the  other.  In 
stead  of  that,  the  method  often  pursued  is  exactly  the  re 
verse.  The  pupil  having  with  infinite  difficulty,  and  with 
many  forebodings  and  anxious  fears,  made  his  first  attempt, 
brings  it  to  his  teacher.  The  teacher,  if  he  is  a  kind-heart 
ed  and  considerate  man,  perhaps  briefly  commends  the  ef 
fort  with  some  such  dubious  and  equivocal  praise  as  it  is 
"Very  well  for  a  beginner,"  or  "As  good  a  composition  as 
could  be  expected  at  the  first  attempt,"  and  then  proceeds 
to  go  over  the  exercise  in  a  cool  and  deliberate  manner, 
with  a  view  of  discovering  arid  bringing  out  clearly  and 
conspicuously  to  the  view,  not  only  of  the  little  author  him 
self,  but  often  of  all  his  classmates  and  friends,  every  imper 
fection,  failure,  mistake,  omission,  or  other  fault  which  a 
rigid  scrutiny  can  detect  in  the  performance.  However 
kindly  he  may  do  this,  and  however  gentle  the  tones  of  his 
voice,  still  the  work  is  criticism  and  fault-finding  from  be 
ginning  to  end.  The  boy  sits  on  thorns  and  nettles  while 
submitting  to  the  operation,  and  when  he  takes  his  marked 
and  corrected  manuscript  to  his  seat,  he  feels  mortified  and 
ashamed,  and  is  often  hopelessly  discouraged. 

How  Faults  are  to  be  Corrected. 

Some  one  may,  perhaps,  say  that  pointing  out  the  errors 
and  faults  of  pupils  is  absolutely  essential  to  their  progress, 
inasmuch  as,  unless  they  are  made  to  see  what  their  faults 
are,  they  can  not  be  expected  to  correct  them.  I  admit 


COMMENDATION  AND  ENCOURAGEMENT.  157 

that  this  is  true  to  a  certain  extent,  but  by  no  means  to  so 
great  an  extent  as  is  often  supposed.  There  are  a  great 
many  ways  of  teaching  pupils  to  do  better  what  they  are 
going  to  do,  besides  showing  them  the  faults  in  what  they 
have  already  done. 

Thus,  without  pointing  out  the  errors  and  faults  which 
he  observes,  the  teacher  may  only  refer  to  and  commend 
what  is  right,  while  he  at  the  same  time  observes  and  re 
members  the  prevailing  faults,  with  a  view  of  adapting  his 
future  instructions  to  the  removal  of  them.  These  instruc 
tions,  when  given,  will  take  the  form,  of  course,  of  general 
information  on  the  art  of  expressing  one's  thoughts  in  writ 
ing,  and  on  the  faults  and  errors  to  be  avoided,  perhaps 
without  any,  or,  at  least,  very  little  allusion  to  those  which 
the  pupils  themselves  had  committed.  Instruction  thus 
given,  while  it  will  have  at  least  an  equal  tendency  with 
the  other  mode  to  form  the  pupils  to  habits  of  correct 
ness  and  accuracy,  will  not  have  the  effect  upon  their 
mind  of  disparagement  of  what  they  have  already  done, 
but  rather  of  aid  and  encouragement  for  them  in  regard  to 
what  they  are  next  to  do.  In  following  the  instructions 
thus  given  them,  the  pupils  will,  as  it  were,  leave  the  faults 
previously  committed  behind  them,  being  even,  in  many  in 
stances,  unconscious,  perhaps,  of  their  having  themselves 
ever  committed  them. 

The  ingenious  mother  will  find  various  modes  analogous 
to  this,  of  leading  her  children  forward  into  what  is  right, 
without  at  all  disturbing  their  minds  by  censure  of  what  is 
wrong — a  course  which  it  is  perfectly  safe  to  pursue  in  the 
case  of  all  errors  and  faults  which  result  from  inadvertence 
or  immaturity.  There  is,  doubtless,  another  class  of  faults 
— those  of  willful  carelessness  or  neglect — which  must  be 
specially  pointed  out  to  the  attention  of  the  delinquents, 
and  a  decree  of  discredit  attached  to  the  commission  of 


158  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

them,  and  perhaps,  in  special  cases,  some  kind  of  punish 
ment  imposed,  as  the  most  proper  corrective  of  the  evil. 
And  yet,  even  in  cases  of  carelessness  and  neglect  of  duty, 
it  will  generally  be  found  much  more  easy  to  awaken  ambi 
tion,  and  a  desire  to  improve,  in  a  child,  by  discovering,  if 
possible,  something  good  in  his  work,  and  commending1 
that,  as  an  encouragement  to  him  to  make  greater  exertion 
the  next  time,  than  to  attempt  to  cure  him  of  his  negligence 
by  calling  his  attention  to  the  faults  which  he  has  commit 
ted,  as  subjects  of  censure,  however  obvious  the  faults  may 
be,  and  however  deserving  of  blame. 

The  advice,  however,  made  in  this  chapter,  to  employ 
commendation  -and  encouragement  to  a  great  extent,  rather 
than  criticism  and  fault-finding,  in  the  management  and  in 
struction  of  children,  must,  like  all  other  general  counsels  of 
the  kind,  be  held  subject  to  all  proper  limitations  and  re 
strictions.  Some  mother  may,  perhaps,  object  to  what  is 
here  advanced,  saying,  "  If  I  am  always  indiscriminately 
praising  my  child's  doings,  he  will  become  self-conceited 
and  vain,  and  he  will  cease  to  make  progress,  being  satis 
fied  with  what  he  has  already  attained."  Of  course  he  will, 
and  therefore  you  must  take  care  not  to  be  always  and  in 
discriminately  praising  him.  You  must  exercise  tact  and 
good  judgment,  or  at  any  rate,  common  sense,  in  properly 
proportioning  your  criticism  and  your  praise.  There  are 
no  principles  of  management,  however  sound,  which  may 
not  be  so  exaggerated,  or  followed  with  so  blind  a  disre 
gard  of  attendant  circumstances,  as  to  produce  more  harm 
than  good. 

It  must  be  especially  borne  in  mind  that  the  counsels 
here  given  in  relation  to  curing  the  faults  of  children  by 
dealing  more  with  what  is  good  in  them  than  what  is  bad, 
are  intended  to  apply  to  faults  of  ignorance,  inadvertence, 
or  habit  only,  and  not  to  acts  of  known  and  willful  wrong. 


COMMENDATION  AND  ENCOURAGEMENT.  159 

When  we  come  to  cases  of  deliberate  and  intentional  dis 
obedience  to  a  parent's  commands,  or  open  resistance  to  his 
authority,  something  different,  or  at  least  something  more, 
is  required. 

The  Principle  of  Universal  Application. 

In  conclusion,  it  is  proper  to  add  that  the  principle  of  in 
fluencing  human  character  and  action  by  noticing  and  corn- 
mending  what  is  right,  rather  than  finding  fault  with  what 
is  wrong,  is  of  universal  application,  with  the  mature  as 
well  as  with  the  young.  The  susceptibility  to  this  influence' 
is  in  full  operation  in  the  minds  of  all  men  everywhere,  and 
acting  upon  it  will  lead  to  the  same  results  in  all  the  rela 
tions  of  society.  The  way  to  awaken  a  penurious  man  to 
the  performance  of  generous  deeds  is  not  by  remonstrating 
with  him,  however  kindly,  on  his  penuriousness,  but  by 
watching  his  conduct  till  we  find  some  act  that  bears  some 
semblance  of  liberality,  and  commending  him  for  that.  If 
you  have  a  neighbor  who  is  surly  and  troublesome — tell 
him  that  he  is  so,  and  you  make  him  worse  than  ever. 
But  watch  for  some  occasion  in  which  he  shows  you  some 
little  kindness,  and  thank  him  cordially  for  such  a  good 
neighborly  act,  and  he  will  feel  a  strong  desire  to  repeat  it. 
If  mankind  universally  understood  this  principle,  and  would 
generally  act  upon  it  in  their  dealings  with  others — of 
course,  with  such  limitations  and  restrictions  as  good  sense 
and  sound  judgment  would  impose — the  world  would  not 
only  go  on  much  more  smoothly  and  harmoniously  than  it 
does  now,  but  the  progress  of  improvement  would,  I  think, 
in  all  respects  be  infinitely  more  rapid. 


100  GENTLE  MEASURES. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
FAULTS  OF  IMMATURITY. 

A  GREAT  portion  of  the  errors  and  mistakes,  and  of  what 
\ve  call  the  follies,  of  children  arise  from  simple  ignorance. 
Principles  of  philosophy,  whether  pertaining  to  external  na 
ture  or  to  mental  action,  are  involved  which  have  never 
come  home  to  their  minds.  They  may  have  been  present 
ed,  but  they  have  not  been  understood  and  appreciated.  It 
requires  some  tact,  and  sometimes  delicate  observation,  on 
the  part  of  the  mother  to  determine  whether  a  mode  of 
action  which  she  sees  ought  to  be  corrected  results  from 
childish  ignorance  and  inexperience,  or  from  willful  wrong 
doing.  Whatever  may  be  the-  proper  treatment  in  the  lat 
ter  case,  it  is  evident  that  in  the  former  what  is  required  is 
not  censure,  but  instruction. 

Boasting. 

A  mother  came  into  the  room  one  day  and  found  Johnny 
disputing  earnestly  with  his  Cousin  Jane  on  the  question 
which  was  the  tallest — Johnny  very  strenuously  maintaining 
that  lie  was  the  tallest,  because  he  was  a  boy.  His  older 
brother,  James,  who  was  present  at  the  time,  measured 
them,  and  found  that  Johnny  in  reality  was  the  tallest. 

Now  there  was  nothing  wrong  in  his  feeling  a  pride  and 
pleasure  in  the  thought  that  he  was  physically  superior  to 
his  cousin,  and  though  it  was  foolish  for  him  to  insist  him 
self  on  this  superiority  in  a  boasting  way,  it  was  the  fool 
ishness  of  ignorance  only.  He  had  not  learned  the  princi 
ple — which  half  mankind  do  not  seem  ever  to  learn  during 


FAULTS  OF  IMMATURITY.  101 

the  whole  course  of  their  lives — that  it  is  far  wiser  and  bet 
ter  to  let  our  good  qualities  appear  naturally  of  themselves, 
than  to  claim  credit  for  them  beforehand  by  boasting.  It 
would  have  been  much  wiser  for  Johnny  to  have  admitted 
at  the  outset  that  Jane  might  possibly  be  taller  than  he,  and 
then  to  have  awaited  quietly  the  result  of  the  measuring. 
But  we  can  not  blame  him  much  for  not  bavins:  learned 

O 

this  particular  wisdom  at  five  years  of  age,  when  so  many 
full-grown  men  and  women  never  learn  it'at  all. 

Nor  was  there  any  thing  blameworthy  in  him  in  respect 
to  the  false  logic  involved  in  his  argument,  that  his  being  a 
boy  made  him  necessarily  taller  than  his  cousin,  a  girl  of 
the  same  age.  There  was  a  semblance,  of  proof  in  that 
fact — what  the  logicians  term  a  presumption.  But  the  rea 
soning  powers  are  very  slowly  developed  in  childhood. 
They  are  very  seldom  aided  by  any  instruction  really 
adapted  to  the  improvement  of  them ;  and  we  ought  not 
to  expect  that  such  children  can  at  all  clearly  distinguish  a 
semblance  from  a  reality  in  ideas  so  extremely  abstruse  as 
those  relating  to  the  logical  connection  between  the  prem 
ises  and  the  conclusion  in  a  process  of  ratiocination. 

In  this  case  as  in  the  other  we  expect  them  to  under 
stand  at  once,  without  instruction,  what  we  find  it  extreme 
ly  difficult  to  learn  ourselves;  for  a  large  portion  of  man 
kind  prove  themselves  utterly  unable  ever  to  discriminate 
between  sound  arguments  and  those  which  are  utterly  in 
consequent  and  absurd. 

In  a  word,  what  Johnny  requires  in  such  a  case  as  this 
is,  not  ridicule  to  shame  him  out  of  his  false  reasoning,  nor 
censure  or  punishment  to  cure  him  of  his  boasting,  but 
simply  instruction. 

And  this  instruction  it  is  much  better  to  give  not  in  di 
rect  connection  with  the  occurrence  which  indicated  the 
want  of  it.  If  you  attempt  to  explain  to  your  boy  the 


163  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

folly  of  boasting  in  immediate  connection  with  some  act 
of  boasting  of  his  own,  he  feels  that  you  are  really  finding 
fault  with  him ;  his  mind  instinctively  puts  itself  into  a  po 
sition  of  defense,  and  the  truth  which  you  wish  to  impart 
to  it  finds  a  much  less  easy  admission. 

If,  for  example,  in  this  case  Johnny's  mother  attempts 
on  the  spot  to  explain  to  him  the  folly  of  boasting,  and  to 
show  how  much  wiser  it  is  for  us  to  let  our  good  qualities, 
if  we  have  any,  speak  for  themselves,  without  any  direct 
agency  of  ours  in  claiming  the  merit  of  them,  he  listens  re 
luctantly  and  nervously  as  to  a  scolding  in  disguise.  If  he 
is  a  boy  well  managed,  he  waits,  perhaps,  to  hear  what  his 
mother  has  to  say,  but  it  makes  no  impression.  If  he  is 
badly  trained,  he  will  probably  interrupt  his  mother  in  the 
midst  of  what  she  is  saying,  or  break  away  from  her  to  go 
on  with  his  play. 

A  right  Mode  of  Treatment. 

If  now,  instead  of  this,  the  mother  waits  until  the  dispute 
and  the  transaction  of  measuring  have  passed  by  and  been 
forgotten,  and  then  takes  some  favorable  opportunity  to 
give  the  required  instruction,  the  result  will  be  far  more 
favorable.  At  some  time,  when  tired  of  his  play,  he  comes 
to  stand  by  her  to  observe  her  at  her  work,  or  perhaps  to 
ask  her  for  a  story  ;  or,  after  she  has  put  him  to  bed  and  is 
about  to  leave  him  for  the  night,  she  says  to  him  as  follows : 

"  I'll  tell  you  a  story  about  two  boys,  Jack  and  Henry, 
and  you  shall  tell  me  which  of  them  came  off  best.  They 
both  went  to  the  same  school  and  were  in  the  same  class, 
and  there  was  nobody  else  in  the  class  but  those  two. 
Henry,  who  was  the  most  diligent  scholar,  was  at  the  head 
of  the  class,  and  Jack  was  below  him,  and,  of  course,  as 
there  were  only  two,  he  was  at  the  foot. 

"  One  dny  there  was  company  at  the  house,  and  one  of 


FAULTS  OF  IMMATURITY.  103 

the  ladies  asked  the  boys  how  they  got  along  at  school. 
Jack  immediately  said, '  Very  well.  I'm  next  to  the  head 
of  my  class.'  The  lady  then  praised  him,  and  said  that  he 
must  be  a  very  good  scholar  to  be  so  high  in  his  class. 
Then  she  asked  Henry  how  high  he  was  in  his  class.  He 
said  he  was  next  to  the  foot. 

"The  lady  was  somewhat  surprised,  for  she,  as  well  as 
the  others  present,  supposed  that  Henry  was  the  best  schol 
ar  ;  they  were  all  a  little  puzzled  too,  for  Henry  looked  a 
little  roguish  and  sly  when  he  said  it.  But  just  then  the 
teacher  came  in,  and  she  explained  the  case ;  for  she  said 
that  the  boys  were  in  the  same  class,  and  they  were  all 
that  were  in  it ;  so  that  Henry,  who  was  really  at  the  head, 
was  next  but  one  to  the  foot,  while  Jack,  who  was  at  the 
foot,  was  next  but  one  to  the  head.  On  having  this  expla 
nation  made  to  the  company.  Jack  felt  very  much  confused 
and  ashamed,  while  Henry,  though  he  said  nothing,  could 
not  help  feeling  pleased. 

'•'  And  now,"  asks  the  mother,  in  conclusion,  "  which  of 
these  boys  do  you  think  came  off  the  best  ?" 

Johnny  answers  that  Henry  came  out  best. 

"  Yes,"  adds  his  mother,  "  and  it  is  always  better  that 
people's  merits,  if  they  have  any,  should  come  out  in  other 
ways  than  by  their  own  boasting  of  them." 

It  is  true  that  this  case  of  Henry  and  Jack  does  not  cor 
respond  exactly  —  not  even  nearly,  in  fact — with  that  of 
Johnny  and  his  cousin.  !N"or  is  it  necessary  that  the  in 
struction  given  in  these  ways  should  logically  conform  to 
the  incident  which  calls  them  forth.  It  is  sufficient  that 
there  should  be  such  a  degree  of  analogy  between  them, 
that  the  interest  and  turn  of  thought  produced  by  the  in 
cident  may  prepare  the  mind  for  appreciating  and  receiv 
ing  the  lesson.  But  the  mother  may  bring  the  lesson  near 
er  if  she  pleases. 


1W  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

"  I  will  tell  you  another  story,"  she  says.  "  There  were 
two  men  at  a  fair.  Their  names  were  Thomas  and  Philip. 
Thomas  was  boasting  of  his  strength.  He  said  he  was  a 
great  deal  stronger  than  Philip.  *  Perhaps  you  are,'  said 
Philip.  Then  Thomas  pointed  to  a  big  stone  which  was 
lying  upon  the  ground,  and  dared  Philip  to  try  which 
could  throw  it  the  farthest.  ''Very  well,' said  Philip, 'I 
will  try,  but  I  think  it  very  likely  you  will  beat  me,  for  I 
know  you  are  very  strong.'  So  they  tried,  and  it  proved 
that  Philip  could  throw  it  a  great  deal  farther  than  Thom 
as  could.  Then  Thomas  went  away  looking  very  much  in 
censed  and  very  much  ashamed,  while  Philip's  triumph 
was  altogether  greater  for  his  not  having  boasted." 

"Yes,"  says  Johnny,  "I  think  so." 

The  mother  may,  if  she  pleases,  come  still  nearer  than 
this,  if  she  wishes  to  suit  Johnny's  individual  case,  without 
exciting  any  resistance  in  his  heart  to  the  reception  of  her 
lesson.  She  may  bring  his  exact  case  into  consideration, 
provided  she  changes  the  names  of  the  actors,  so  that  John 
ny's  mind  may  be  relieved  from  the  uneasy  sensitiveness 
which  it  is  so  natural  for  a  child  to  feel  when  his  own  con 
duct  is  directly  the  object  of  unfavorable  comment.  It  is 
surprising  how  slight  a  change  in  the  mere  outward  inci 
dents  of  an  affair  will  suffice  to  divert  the  thoughts  of  the 
child  from  himself  in  such  a  case,  and  enable  him  to  look 
at  the  lesson  to  be  imparted  without  personal  feeling,  and 
so  to  receive  it  more  readily. 

Johnny's  mother  may  say,  "  There  might  be  a  story  in 
a  book  about  two  boys  that  were  disputing  a  little  about 
which  was  the  tallest.  What  do  you  think  would  be  good 
names  for  the  boys,  if  you  were  making  up  such  a  story?" 

When  Johnny  has  proposed  the  names,  his  mother  could 
go  on  and  give  an  almost  exact  narrative  of  what  took  place 
between  Johnny  and  his  cousin,  offering  just  such  instrno- 


FAULTS  OF  IMMATURITY.  165 

tions  and  such  advice  as  she  would  like  to  offer;  and  she 
will  find,  if  she  manages  the  conversation  with  ordinary 
tact  and  discretion,  that  the  lessons  which  she  desires  to 
impart  will  find  a  ready  admission  to  the  mind  of  her  child, 
simply  from  the  fact  that,  by  divesting  them  of  all  direct 
personal  application,  she  has  eliminated  from  them  the  ele 
ment  of  covert  censure  which  they  would  otherwise  have 
contained.  Very  slight  disguises  will,  in  all  such  cases,  be 
found  to  be  sufficient  to  veil  the  personal  applicability  of 
the  instruction,  so  far  as  to  divest  it  of  all  that  is  painful  or 
disagreeable  to  the  child.  He  may  have  a  vague  feeling 
that  you  mean  him,  but  the  feeling  will  not  produce  any  ef 
fect  of  irritation  or  rcpellency. 

!N"ow,  the  object  of  these  illustrations  is  to  show  that 
those  errors  and  faults  which,  when  we  look  at  their  real 
and  intrinsic  character,  we  see  to  be  results  of  ignorance 
and  inexperience,  and  not  instances  of  willful  and  inten 
tional  wrong-doing,  are  not  to  be  dealt  with  harshly,  and 
made  occasions  of  censure  and  punishment.  The  child  does 
not  deserve  censure  or  punishment  in  such  cases ;  what  he 
requires  is  instruction.  It  is  the  bringing  in  of  light  to  il 
luminate  the  path  that  is  before  him  which  he  has  yet  to 
tread,  and  not  the  infliction  of  pain,  to  impress  upon  him 
the  evil  of  the  missteps  he  made,  in  consequence  of  the  ob 
scurity,  in  the  path  behind  him. 

Indeed,  in  such  cases  as  this,  it  is  the  influence  of  pleas 
ure  rather  than  pain  that  the  parent  will  find  the  most  effi 
cient  means  of  aiding  him ;  that  is,  in  these  cases,  the  more 
pleasant  and  agreeable  the  modes  by  which  he  can  impart 
the  needed  knowledge  to  the  child — in  other  words,  the 
more  attractive  he  can  make  the  paths  by  which  he  can 
lead  his  little  charge  onward  in  its  progress  towards  matu- 
ritv — the  more  successful  he  will  be. 


166  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

Ignorance  of  Material  Properties  and  Laws. 

In  the  example  already  given,  the  mental  immaturity  con 
sisted  in  imperfect  acquaintance  with  the  qualities  and  the 
action  of  the  mind,  and  the  principles  of  sound  reasoning; 
but  a  far  larger  portion  of  the  mistakes  and  failures  into 
which  children  fall,  and  for  which  they  incur  undeserved 
censure,  are  due  to  their  ignorance  of  the  laws  of  external 
nature,  and  of  the  properties  and  qualities  of  material  objects. 

A  boy,  for  example,  seven  or  eight  years  old,  receives 
from  his  father  a  present  of  a  knife,  with  a  special  injunc 
tion  to  be  careful  of  it.  He  is,  accordingly,  very  careful  of 
it  in  respect  to  such  dangers  as  he  understands,  but  in  at 
tempting  to  bore  a  hole  with  it  in  a  piece  of  wood,  out  of 
which  he  is  trying  to  make  a  windmill,  he  breaks  the  small 
blade.  The  accident,  in  such  a  case,  is  not  to  be  attributed 
to  any  censurable  carelessness,  but  to  want  of  instruction 
in  respect  to  the  strength  of  such  a  material  as  steel,  and 
the  nature  and  effects  of  the  degree  of  tempering  given  to 
knife-blades.  The  boy  had  seen  his  father  bore  holes  with 
a  gimlet,  and  the  knife-blade  was  larger — in  one  direction 
at  least,  that  is,  in  breadth — than  the  gimlet,  and  it  was 
very  natural  for  him  to  suppose  that  it  was  stronger. 
What  a  boy  needs  in  such  a  case,  therefore,  is  not  a  scold 
ing,  or  punishment,  but  simply  information. 

A  girl  of  about  the  same  age — a  farmer's  daughter,  we 
will  suppose — under  the  influence  of  a  dutiful  desire  to  aid 
her  mother  in  preparing  the  table  for  breakfast,  attempts 
to  carry  across  the  room  a  pitcher  of  milk  which  is  too  full, 
and  she  spills  a  portion  of  it  upon  the  floor. 

The  Intention  good. 

The  mother,  forgetting  the  good  intention  which  prompt 
ed  the  act,  and  thinking  only  of  the  inconvenience  which  it 


FAULTS  OF  IMMATURITY.  169 

occasions  her,  administers  at  once  a  sharp  rebuke.  The 
cause  of  the  trouble  was,  simply,  that  the  child  was  not  old 
enough  to  understand  the  laws  of  momentum  and  of  oscil 
lation  that  affect  the  condition  of  a  fluid  when  subjected 
to  movements  more  or  less  irregular.  She  has  had  no  the 
oretical  instruction  on  the  subject,  and  is  too  young  to  have 
acquired  the  necessary  knowledge  practically,  by  experience 
or  observation. 

It  is  so  with  a  very  large  portion  of  the  accidents  which 
befall  children.  They  arise  not  from  any  evil  design,  nor 
even  any  thing  that  can  properly  be  called  carelessness,  on 
their  part,  but  simply  from  the  immaturity  of  their  knowl 
edge  in  respect  to  the  properties  and  qualities  of  the  mate 
rial  objects  with  which  they  have  to  deal. 

It  is  true  that  children  may  bo,  and  often,  doubtless,  are,  in 
fault  for  these  accidents.  The  boy  may  have  been  warned 
by  his  father  not  to  attempt  to  bore  with  his  knife-blade, 
or  the  girl  forbidden  to  attempt  to  carry  the  milk-pitcher. 
The  fault,  however,  would  be,  even  in  these  cases,  in  the 
disobedience,  and  not  in  the  damage  that  accidentally  re 
sulted  from  it.  And  it  would  be  far  more  reasonable  and 
proper  to  reprove  and  punish  the  fault  when  no  evil  fol 
lowed  than  when  a  damage  was  the  result;  for  in  the  lat 
ter  case  the  damage  itself  acts,  ordinarily,  as  a  more  than 
sufficient  punishment. 

Misfortunes  befalling  Men. 

These  cases  are  exactly  analogous  to  a  large  class  of  acci 
dents  and  calamities  that  happen  among  men.  A  ship-mas 
ter  sails  from  port  at  a  time  when  there  are  causes  existing 
in  the  condition  of  the  atmosphere,  and  in  the  agencies  in 
readiness  to  act  upon  it,  that  must  certainly,  in  a  few  hours, 
result  in  a  violent  storm.  He  is  consequently  caught  in  the 
gale,  and  his  topmasts  and  upper  rigging  are  carried  away. 

H 


170  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

The  owners  do  not  censure  him  for  the  loss  which  they  in 
cur,  if  they  are  only  assured  that  the  meteorological  knowl 
edge  at  the  captain's  command  at  the  time  of  leaving  port 
was  not  such  as  to  give  him  warning  of  the  danger;  and 
provided,  also,  that  his  knowledge  was  as  advanced  as  could 
reasonably  be  expected  from  the  opportunities  which  he 
had  enjoyed.  But  we  are  very  much  inclined  to  hold  chil 
dren  responsible  for  as  much  knowledge  of  the  sources  of 
danger  around  them  as  we  ourselves,  with  all  our  expe 
rience,  have  been  able  to  acquire,  and  are  accustomed  to 
condemn  and  sometimes  even  to  punish  them,  for  want  of 
this  knowledge. 

Indeed,  in  many  cases,  both  with  children  and  with  men, 
the  means  of  knowledge  in  respect  to  the  danger  may  be 
fully  within  reach,  and  yet  the  situation  may  be  so  novel, 
and  the  combination  of  circumstances  so  peculiar,  that  the 
connection  between  the  causes  and  the  possible  evil  effects 
does  not  occur  to  the  minds  of  the  persons  engaged.  An 
accident  which  has  just  occurred  at  the  time  of  this  present 
writing  \vill  illustrate  this.  A  company  of  workmen  con 
structing  a  tunnel  for  a  railway,  when  they  had  reached  the 
distance  of  some  miles  from  the  entrance,  prepared  a  num 
ber  of  charges  for  blasting  the  rock,  and  accidentally  laid 
the  wires  connected  with  the  powder  in  too  close  proxim 
ity  to  the  temporary  railway-track  already  laid  in  the  tun 
nel.  The  charges  were  intended  to  be  fired  from  an  elec 
tric  battery  provided  for  the  purpose  ;  but  a  thunder-cloud 
came  up,  and  the  electric  force  from  it  was  conveyed  by  the 
rails  into  the  tunnel  and  exploded  the  charges,  and  several 
men  were  killed.  No  one  was  inclined  to  censure  the  unfor 
tunate  men  for  carelessness  in  not  guarding  against  a  contin 
gency  so  utterly  unforeseen  by  them,  though  it  is  plain  that, 
as  is  often  said  to  children  in  precisely  analogous 
they  might  have  Jcnown. 


FAULTS  OF  IMMATURITY.  171 

Children's  Studies. — Spelling. 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  department  of  the  management  of 
children  in  which  they  incur  more  undeserved  censure,  and 
even  punishment,  and  are  treated  with  so  little  considera 
tion  for  faults  arising  solely  from  the  immaturity  of  their 
minds,  than  in  the  direction  of  what  may  be  called  school 
studies.  Few  people  have  any  proper  appreciation  of  the 
enormous  difficulties  which  a  child  has  to  encounter  in 
learning  to  read  and  spell.  How  many  parents  become 
discouraged,  and  manifest  their  discouragement  and  dissat 
isfaction  to  the  child  in  reproving  and  complaints,  at  what 
they  consider  his  slow  progress  in  learning  to  spell — for 
getting  that  in  the  English  language  there  are  in  common, 
every-day  use  eight  or  ten  thousand  words,  almost  all  of 
which  are  to  be  learned  separately,  by  a  bare  and  cheerless 
toil  of  committing  to  memory,  with  comparatively  little 
definite  help  from  the  sound.  We  have  ourselves  become 
so  accustomed  to  seeing  the  word  bear,  for  example,  when 
denoting  the  animal,  spelt  bear,  that  we  are  very  prone 
to  imagine  that  there  is  something  naturally  appropriate  in 
those  letters  and  in  that  collocation  of  them,  to  represent 
that  sound  when  used  to  denote  that  idea.  But  what  is 
there  in  the  nature  and  power  of  the  letters  to  aid  the  child 
in  perceiving  —  or,  when  told,  in  remembering — whether, 
when  referring  to  the  animal,  he  is  to  write  bear,  or  bare,  or 
bair,  or  bayr,  or  bere,  as  in  where.  So  with  the  word  you. 
It  seems  to  us  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  to  spell 
it  y  o  u.  And  when  the  little  pupil,  judging  by  the  sound, 
writes  it  y  u,  we  mortify  him  by  our  ridicule,  as  if  he  had 
done  something  in  itself  absurd.  But  how  is  he  to  know, 
except  by  the  hardest,  most  meaningless,  and  distasteful  toil 
of  the  memory,  whether  he  is  to  write  you,  or  yu,  or  yoo, 
or  eice,  or  yew,  or  yue,  as  mflue,  or  even  yo  as  in  do,  and  to 


172  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

determine  when  and  in  what  cases  respectively  lie  is  to  use 
those  different  forms  ? 

The  truth  is,  that  each  elementary  sound  that  enters  into 
the  composition  of  words  is  represented  in  our  language 
by  so  many  different  combinations  of  letters,  in  different 
cases,  that  the  child  has  very  little  clue  from  the  sound  of  a 
syllable  to  guide  him  in  the  spelling  of  it.  We  ourselves, 
from  long  habit,  have  become  so  accustomed  to  what  we 
call  the  right  spelling — which,  of  course,  means  nothing 
more  than  the  customary  one — that  we  are  apt  to  imagine, 
as  has  already  been  said,  that  there  is  some  natural  fitness 
in  it;  and  a  mode  of  representing  the  same  sound,  which  in 
one  case  seems  natural  and  proper,  in  another  appears  lu 
dicrous  and  absurd.  We  smile  to  see  laugh  spelled  larf, 
just  as  we  should  to  see  scarf  spelled  scauyh,  or  scalf,  as 
in  half"  and  we  forget  that  this  perception  of  apparent  in 
congruity  is  entirely  the  result  of  long  habit  in  us,  and  has 
no  natural  foundation,  and  that  children  can  not  be  sensi 
ble  of  it,  or  have  any  idea  of  it  whatever.  They  learn,  in 
learning  to  talk,  what  sound  serves  as  the  name  by  which 
the  drops  of  water  that  they  find  upon  the  grass  in  the 
morning  is  denoted,  but  they  can  have  no  clue  whatever  to 
guide  them  in  determining  which  of  the  various  modes  by 
which  precisely  that  sound  is  represented  in  different  words, 
as  dew,  do,  due,  du,  doo,  and  dou,  is  to  be  employed  in  this 
case,  and  they  become  involved  in  hopeless  perplexity  if 
they  attempt  to  imagine  "how  it  ought  to  be  spelled;'1''  and 
we  think  them  stupid  because  they  can  not  extricate  them 
selves  from  the  difficulty  on  our  calling  upon  them  to 
"think!"  No  doubt  there  is  a  reason  for  the  particular 
mode  of  spelling  each  particular  word  in  the  language — but 
that  reason  is  hidden  in  the  past  history  of  the  word  and 
in  facts  connected  with  its  origin  and  derivation  from  some 
barbarous  or  dead  language,  and  is  as  utterly  beyond  the 


FAULTS  OF  IMMATURITY.  173 

reach  of  each  generation  of  spellers  as  if  there  were  no 
such  reasons  in  existence.  There  can  not  be  the  slightest 
help  in  any  way  from  the  exercise  of  the  thinking  or  the 
reasoning  powers. 

It  is  true  that  the  variety  of  the  modes  by  which  a  given 
sound  may  be  represented  is  not  so  great  in  all  words  as  it 
is  in  these  examples,  though  with  respect  to  a  vast  number 
of  the  words  in  common  use  the  above  are  fair  specimens. 
They  were  not  specially  selected,  but  were  taken  almost  at 
random.  And  there  are  very  few  words  in  the  language 
the  sound  of  which  might  not  be  represented  by  several 
different  modes. 

Take,  for  example,  the  three  last  words  of  the  last  sen 
tence,  which,  as  the  words  were  written  without  any  thought 
of  using  them  for  this  purpose,  may  be  considered,  perhaps, 
as  a  fair  specimen  of  words  taken  actually  at  random.  The 
sound  of  the  word  several  might  be  expressed  in  perfect  ac 
cordance  with  the  usage  of  English  spelling,  as  ceveral,  sev* 
end,  sevarul,  cevural,  and  in  many  other  different  modes. 
The  combinations  dipherant,  diferunt,  dyfferent,  diffurunt, 
and  many  others,  would  as  well  represent  the  sound  of  the 
second  word  as  the  usual  mode.  And  so  with  modes,  which, 
according  to  the  analogy  of  the  language,  might  as  well 
be  expressed  by  moads,  mowdes,  moades,  mohdes,  or  even 
mhodes,  as  in  Rhodes. 

An  exceptionally  precise  speaker  might  doubtless  make 
some  slight  difference  in  the  sounds  indicated  by  the  dif 
ferent  modes  of  representing  the  same  syllable  as  given 
above ;  but  to  the  ordinary  appreciation  of  childhood  the 
distinction  in  sound  between  such  combinations,  for  exam 
ple,  as  ant  in  constant  and  c  n  t  in  different  would  not  be 
perceptible. 

Now,  when  we  consider  the  obvious  fact  that  the  child 
has  to  learn  mechanically,  without  any  principles  whatever 


174  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

to  guide  him  in  discovering  which,  out  of  the  many  differ 
ent  forms,  equally  probable,  judging  simply  from  analogy, 
by  which  the  sound  of  the  word  is  to  be  expressed,  is  the 
right  one;  and  considering  how  small  a  portion  of  his  time 
each  day  is  or  can  be  devoted  to  this  work,  and  that  the 
number  of  words  in  common  use,  all  of  which  he  is  expect 
ed  to  know  how  to  spell  correctly  by  the  time  that  he  is 
twelve  or  fifteen  years  of  age,  is  probably  ten  or  twelve 
thousand  (there  are  in  Webster's  dictionary  considerably 
over  a  hundred  thousand) ;  when  we  take  these  considera 
tions  into  account,  it  would  seem  that  a  parent,  on  finding 
that  a  letter  written  by  his  daughter,  twelve  or  fourteen 
years  of  age,  has  all  but  three  or  four  words  spelled  right, 
ought  to  be  pleased  and  satisfied,  and  to  express  his  satis 
faction  for  the  encouragement  of  the  learner,  instead  of  ap 
pearing  to  think  only  of  the  few  words  that  are  wrong,  and 
disheartening  and  discouraging  the  child  by  attempts  to 
make  her  ashamed  of  her  spelling. 

The  case  is  substantially  the  same  with  the  enormous 
difficulties  to  be  encountered  in  learning  to  read  and  to 
write.  The  names  of  the  letters,  as  the  child  pronounces 
them  individually,  give  very  little  clue  to  the  sound  that 
is  to  be  given  to  the  word  formed  by  them.  Thus,  the 
letters  h  i  t,  as  the  child  pronounces  them  individually — 
aitch,  eye,  tee — would  naturally  spell  to  him  some  such 
word  as  achite,  not  hit  at  all.  And  as  for  the  labor  and 
difficulty  of  writing,  a  mother  who  is  impatient  at  the 
slow  progress  of  her  children  in  the  attainment  of  the 
art  would  be  aided  very  much  in  obtaining  a  just  idea 
of  the  difficulties  which  they  experience  by  sitting  upon 
a  chair  and  at  a  table  both  much  too  high  for  her,  and 
trying  to  copy  Chinese  characters  by  means  of  a  hair-pen 
cil,  and  with  her  left  hand  —  the  work  to  be  closely  in 
spected  every  day  by  a  stern  Chinaman  of  whom  she  stands 


FAULTS   OF  IMMATURITY.  175 

in  awe,  and  all  the  minutest  deviations  from  the  copy  point 
ed  out  to  her  attention  with  an  air  of  dissatisfaction  and 
reproval ! 

Effect  of  Ridicule. 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  one  cause  which  exerts  a  greater 
influence  in  chilling  the  interest  that  children  naturally  feel 
in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  than  the  depression  and 
discouragement  which  result  from  having  their  mistakes 
and  errors — for  a  large  portion  of  which  they  are  in  no 
sense  to  blame — made  subjects  of  censure  or  ridicule.  The 
effect  is  still  more  decided  in  the  case  of  girls  than  in  that 
of  boys,  the  gentler  sex  being  naturally  so  much  more  sen 
sitive.  I  have  found  in  many  cases,  especially  in  respect  to 
girls  who  are  far  enough  advanced  to  have  had  a  tolerably 
full  experience  of  the  usual  influences  of  schools,  that  the 
fear  of  making  mistakes,  and  of  being  "  thought  stupid," 
has  had  more  effect  in  hindering  and  retarding  progress,  by 
repressing  the  natural  ardor  of  the  pupil,  and  destroying  all 
alacrity  and  courage  in  the  efforts  to  advance,  than  all  other 
causes  combined. 

Stupidity. 

How  ungenerous,  and  even  cruel,  it  is  to  reproach  or  rid 
icule  a  child  for  stupidity,  is  evident  when  we  reflect  that 
any  supposed  inferiority  in  his  mental  organization  can  not, 
by  any  possibility,  be  his  fault.  The  question  what  degree 
of  natural  intelligence  he  shall  be  endowed  with,  in  compar 
ison  with  other  children,  is  determined,  not  by  himself,  but 
by  his  Creator,  and  depends,  probably,  upon  conditions  of 
organization  in  his  cerebral  system  as  much  beyond  his 
control  as  any  thing  abnormal  in  the  features  of  his  face,  or 
blindness,  or  deafness,  or  any  other  physical  disadvantage. 
The  child  who  shows  any  indications  of  inferiority  to  oth- 


170  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

ers  in  any  of  these  respects  should  be  the  object  of  his  par 
ent's  or  his  teacher's  special  tenderness  and  care.  If  he  is 
near-sighted,  give  him,  at  school,  a  seat  as  convenient  as 
possible  to  the  blackboard  or  the  map.  If  he  is  hard  of 
hearing,  place  him  near  the  teacher;  and  for  reasons  pre 
cisely  analogous,  if  you  suspect  him  to  be  of  inferior  capac 
ity,  help  him  gently  and  tenderly  in  every  possible  way. 
Do  every  thing  in  your  power  to  encourage  him,  and  to 
conceal  his  deficiencies  both  from  others  and  from  himself, 
so  far  as  these  objects  can  be  attained  consistently  with  the 
general  good  of  the  family  or  of  the  school. 

And,  at  all  events,  let  those  who  have  in  any  way  the 
charge  of  children  keep  the  distinction  well  defined  in  their 
minds  between  the  faults  which  result  from  evil  intentions, 
or  deliberate  and  willful  neglect  of  known  duty,  and  those 
which,  whatever  the  inconvenience  they  may  occasion,  are 
in  part  or  in  whole  the  results  of  mental  or  physical  imma 
turity.  In  all  our  dealings,  whether  with  plants,  or  ani 
mals,  or  with  the  human  soul,  we  ought,  in  our  training,  to 
act  very  gently  in  respect  to  all  that  pertains  to  the  embryo 
condition. 


THE  ACTIVITY  OF  CHILDREN.  177 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  ACTIVITY  OF  CHILDREN. 

IN  order  rightly  to  understand  the  true  nature  of  that 
extraordinary  activity  which  is  so  noticeable  in  all  children 
that  are  in  a  state  of  health,  so  as  to  be  able  to  deal  with 
it  on  the  right  principles  and  in  a  proper  manner,  it  is  nec 
essary  to  turn  our  attention  somewhat  carefully  to  certain 
scientific  truths  in  respect  to  the  nature  and  action  of  force 
in  general  which  are  now  abundantly  established,  and  which 
throw  great  light  on  the  true  character  of  that  peculiar 
form  of  it  which  is  so  characteristic  of  childhood,  and  is,  in 
deed,  so  abundantly  developed  by  the  vital  functions  of  al 
most  all  young  animals.  One  of  the  fundamental  princi 
ples  of  this  system  of  scientific  truth  is  that  which  is  called 
the  persistence  of  force. 

The  Persistence  of  Force. 

By  the  persistence  of  force  is  meant  the  principle — one 
now  established  with  so  much  certainty  as  to  command  the 
assent  of  every  thinking  man  who  examines  the  subject — 
that  in  the  ordinary  course  of  nature  no  force  is  either  ever 
originated  or  ever  destroyed,  but  only  changed  in  form. 
In  other  words,  that  all  existing  forces  are  but  the  contin 
uation  or  prolongation  of  other  forces  preceding  them,  ei 
ther  of  the  same  or  other  forms,  but  precisely  equivalent 
in  amount;  and  that  no  force  can  terminate  its  action  in 
any  other  way  than  by  being  transmuted  into  some  other 
force,  either  of  the  same  or  of  some  other  form ;  but  still, 
again,  precisely  equivalent  in  amount. 

H2 


178  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

It  was  formerly  believed  that  a  force  might  under  cer 
tain  circumstances  be  originated — created,  as  it  were — and 
hence  the  attempts  to  contrive  machines  for  perpetual  mo 
tion — that  is,  machines  for  the  production  of  force.  This 
idea  is  now  wholly  renounced  by  all  well-informed  men  as 
utterly  impossible  in  the  nature  of  things.  All  that  hu 
man  mechanism  can  do  is  to  provide  modes  for  using  ad 
vantageously  a  force  previously  existing,  without  the  pos 
sibility  of  either  increasing  or  diminishing  it.  ISTo  existing 
force  can  be  destroyed.  The  only  changes  possible  are 
changes  of  direction,  changes  in  the  relation  of  intensity 
to  quantity,  and  changes  of  form. 

The  cases  in  which  a  force  is  apparently  increased  or  di 
minished,  as  well  as  those  in  which  it  seems  to  disappear, 
are  all  found,  on  examination,  to  be  illusive.  For  example, 
the  apparent  increase  of  a  man's  power  by  the  use  of  a  le 
ver  is  really  no  increase  at  all.  It  is  true  that,  by  pressing 
upon  the  outer  arm  with  his  own  weight,  lie  can  cause  the 
much  greater  weight  of  the  stone  to  rise ;  but  then  it  will 
rise  only  a  very  little  way  in  comparison  with  the  distance 
through  which  his  own  weight  descends.  His  own  weight 
must,  in  fact,  descend  through  a  distance  as  much  greater 
than  that  by  which  the  stone  ascends,  as  the  weight  of  the 
stone  is  greater  than  his  weight.  In  other  words,  so  far  as 
the  balance  of  the  forces  is  concerned,  the  whole  amount 
of  the  downward  motion  consists  of  the  smaller  weight  de 
scending  through  a  greater  distance,  which  will  be  equal 
to  the  whole  amount  of  that  of  the  larger  one  ascending 
through  a  smaller  distance ;  and,  to  produce  a  preponder 
ance,  the  whole  amount  of  the  downward  force  must  be 
somewhat  greater.  Thus  the  lever  only  gathers  or  concen 
trates  force,  as  it  were,  but  does  not  at  all  increase  it. 

It  is  so  with  all  the  other  contrivances  for  managing 
force  for  the  accomplishment  of  particular  purposes.  None 


THE  ACTIVITY  OF  CHILDREN.  179 

of  them  increase  the  force,  but  only  alter  its  form  and  char 
acter,  with  a  view  to  its  better  adaptation  to  the  purpose  in 
view. 

Nor  can  any  force  be  extinguished.  When  a  bullet 
strikes  against  a  solid  wall,  the  force  of  its  movement, 
which  seems  to  disappear,  is  not  lost ;  it  is  converted  into 
heat — the  temperature  of  both  the  bullet  and  of  that  part 
of  the  wall  on  which  it  impinges  being  raised  by  the  con 
cussion.  And  it  is  found  that  the  amount  of  the  heat  which 
is  thus  produced  is  always  in  exact  proportion  to  the  quan 
tity  of  mechanical  motion  which  is  stopped ;  this  quantity 
depending  on  the  weight  of  the  bullet,  and  on  the  velocity 
with  which  it  was  moving.  And  it  has  been  ascertained, 
moreover,  by  the  most  careful,  patient,  and  many  times  re 
peated  experiments  and  calculations,  that  the  quantity  of 
this  heat  is  exactly  the  same  with  that  which,  through 
the  medium  of  steam,  or  by  any  other  mode  of  applying 
it,  may  be  made  to  produce  the  same  quantity  of  me 
chanical  motion  that  was  extinguished  in  the  bullet.  Thus 
the  force  was  not  destroyed,  but  only  converted  into*  another 
form. 

And  if  we  should  follow  out  the  natural  effects  of  this 
heat  into  which  the  motion  of  the  bullet  was  transferred, 
we  should  find  it  rarefying  the  air  around  the  place  of  con 
cussion,  and  thus  lifting  the  whole  mass  of  the  atmosphere 
above  it,  and  producing  currents  of  the  nature  of  wind,  and 
through  these  producing  other  effects,  thus  going  on  for 
ever  ;  the  force  changing  its  form,  but  neither  increasing 
or  diminishing  its  quantity  through  a  series  of  changes 
without  end. 

The  Arrest  and  temporary  Reservation  of  Force. 
Now,  although  it  is  thus  impossible  that  any  force  should 
be  destroyed,  or  in  any  way  cease  to  exist  in  one  form 


180  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

without  setting  in  action  a  precisely  equal  amount  in  somo 
other  form,  it  may,  as  it  were,  pass  into  a  condition  of  re 
straint,  and  remain  thus  suspended  and  latent  for  an  indefi 
nite  period — ready,  however,  to  break  into  action  again  the 
moment  that  the  restraint  is  removed.  Thus  a  perfectly 
elastic  spring  may  be  bent  by  a  certain  force,  and  retained 
in  the  bent  position  a  long  time.  But  the  moment  that  it  is 
released  it  will  unbend  itself,  exercising  in  so  doing  precise 
ly  the  degree  of  force  expended  in  bending  it.  In  the  same 
manner  air  may  be  compressed  in  an  air-gun,  and  held  thus, 
with  the  force,  as  it  were,  imprisoned,  for  any  length  of 
time,  until  at  last,  when  the  detent  is  released  by  the  trig 
ger,  the  elastic  force  comes  into  action,  exercising  in  its  ac 
tion  a  power  precisely  the  same  as  that  with  which  it  was 
compressed. 

Force  or  power  may  be  thus,  as  it  were,  stored  up  in  a 
countless  variety  of  ways,  and  reserved  for  future  action ; 
and,  when  finally  released,  the  whole  amount  may  be  set 
free  at  once,  so  as  to  expend  itself  in  a  single  impulse,  as  in 
case  of  the  arrow  or  the  bullet;  or  it  may  be  partially  re 
strained,  so  as  to  expend  itself  gradually,  as  in  the  case  of 
a  clock  or  watch.  In  either  case  the  total  amount  expend 
ed  will  be  precisely  the  same — namely,  the  exact  equivalent 
of  that  which  was  placed  in  store. 

Vegetable  and  Animal  Life. 

There  are  a  vast  number  of  mechanical  contrivances  in  use 
among  men  for  thus  putting  force  in  store,  as  it  were,  and 
then  using  it  more  or  less  gradually,  as  may  be  required. 
And  nature,  moreover,  does  this  on  a  scale  so  stupendous 
as  to  render  all  human  contrivances  for  this  purpose  utterly 
insignificant  in  comparison.  The  great  agent  which  nature 
employs  in  this  work  is  vegetation.  Indeed,  it  may  truly 
be  said  that  the  great  function  of  vegetable  life,  in  all  the 


THE  ACTIVITY  OF  CHILDREN.  181 

infinitude  of  forms  and  characters  which  it  assumes,  is  to 
receive  and  store  up  force  derived  from  the  emanations  of 
the  sun. 

Animal  life,  on  the  other  hand,  exists  and  fulfills  its  func 
tions  by  the  expenditure  of  this  force.  Animals  receive 
vegetable  productions  containing  these  reserves  of  force 
into  their  systems,  which  systems  contain  arrangements  for 
liberating  the  force,  and  employing  it  for  the  purposes  it  is 
intended  to  subserve  in  the  animal  economy. 

The  manner  in  which  these  processes  are  performed  is 
in  general  terms  as  follows :  The  vegetable  absorbs  from 
the  earth  and  from  the  air  substances  existing  in  their  nat 
ural  condition — that  is,  united  according  to  their  strongest 
affinities.  These  substances  are  chiefly  water,  containing 
various  mineral  salts  in  solution,  from  the  ground,  and  car 
bonic  acid  from  the  air.  These  substances,  after  under 
going  certain  changes  in  the  vessels  of  the  plant,  are  ex 
posed  to  the  influence  of  the  rays  of  the  sun  in  the  leaves. 
By  the  power  of  these  rays — including  the  calorific,  the  lu 
minous,  and  the  actinic — the  natural  affinities  by  which  the 
above-mentioned  substances  were  united  are  overcome,  and 
they  are  formed  into  new  combinations,  in  which  they  are 
united  by  very  weak  affinities.  Of  course,  they  have  a 
strong  tendency  to  break  away  from  the  new  unions,  and 
fall  back  into  the  old.  But,  by  some  mysterious  and  in 
comprehensible  means,  the  sun  has  power  to  lock  them,  so 
to  speak,  in  their  new  forms,  so  as  to  require  a  special  con 
dition  of  things  for  the  releasing  of  them.  Thus  they  form 
a  reserve  of  force,  which  can  be  held  in  restraint  until  the 
conditions  required  for  their  release  are  realized. 

The  process  can  be  illustrated  more  particularly  by  a 
single  case.  Water,  .one  of  the  'substances  absorbed  by 
plants,  is  composed  of  oxygen  and  hydrogen,  which  are 
united  by  an  affinity  of  prodigious  force.  It  is  the  same 


182  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

with  carbon  and  oxygen,  in  a  compound  called  carbonic 
acid,  which  is  also  one  of  the  principal  substances  absorbed 
by  plants  from  the  air.  Now  the  heat  and  other  emana 
tions  from  the  sun,  acting  upon  these  substances  in  the 
leaves,  forces  the  hydrogen  and  the  carbon  away  from  their 
strong  bond  of  union  with  oxygen,  and  sets  the  oxygen 
free,  and  then  combines  the  carbon  and  hydrogen  into  a 
sort  of  unwilling  union  with  each  other  —  a  union  from 
which  they  are  always  ready  and  eager  to  break  away,  that 
they  may  return  to  their  union  with  the  object  of  their 
former  and  much  stronger  attachment  —  namely,  oxygen; 
though  they  are  so  locked,  by  some  mysterious  means,  that 
they  can  not  break  away  except  when  certain  conditions 
necessary  to  their  release  are  realized. 

Hydrocarbons. 

The  substances  thus  formed  by  a  weak  union  of  carbon 
with  hydrogen  are  called  hydrocarbons.  They  comprise 
nearly  all  the  highly  inflammable  vegetable  substances. 
Their  being  combustible  means  simply  that  they  have  a 
great  disposition  to  resume  their  union  with  oxygen  — 
combustion  being  nothing  other  than  a  more  or  less  violent 
return  of  a  substance  to  a  union  with  oxygen  or  some  oth 
er  such  substance,  usually  one  from  which  it  had  formerly 
been  separated  by  force — giving  out  again  by  its  return,  in 
the  form  of  heat,  the  force  by  which  the  original  separation 
had  been  effected. 

A  compound  formed  thus  of  substances  united  by  very 
weak  affinities,  so  that  they  arc  always  ready  to  separate 
from  each  other  and  form  new  unions  under  the  influence 
of  stronger  affinities,  is  said  to  be  in  a  state  of  unstable 
equilibrium..  It  is  the  function  of  vegetable  life  to  create 
these  unstable  combinations  by  means  of  the  force  derived 
from  the  sun ;  and  the  combinations,  when  formed,  of  course 


THE  ACTIVITY  OF  CHILDREN.  183 

hold  the  force  which  formed  them  in  reserve,  ready  to 
make  itself  manifest  whenever  it  is  released.  Animals  re 
ceive  these  substances  into  their  systems  in  their  food. 
A  portion  of  them  they  retain,  re-arranging  the  compo 
nents  in  some  cases  so  as  to  form  new  compounds,  but  still 
unstable.  These  they  use  in  constructing  the  tissues  of  the 
animal  system,  and  some  they  reserve  for  future  use.  As 
fast  as  they  require  the  heat  and  the  force  which  are  stored 
in  them  they  expend  them,  thus  recovering  the  force  which 
was  absorbed  in  the  formation  of  them,  and  which  now,  on 
being  released,  re-appears  in  the  three  forms  of  animal 
Jieat,  muscular  motion,  and  cerebral  or  nervous  energy. 

There  are  other  modes  besides  the  processes  of  animal 
life  by  which  the  reserved  force  laid  up  by  the  vegetable 
process  in  these  unstable  compounds  may  be  released.  In 
many  cases  it  releases  itself  under  ordinary  exposures  to 
the  oxygen  of  the  atmosphere.  A  log  of  wood — which  is 
composed  chiefly  of  carbon  and  hydrogen  in  an  unstable 
union — lying  upon  the  ground  wTill  gradually  decay ',  as  we 
term  it — that  is,  its  elements  will  separate  from  each  other, 
and  form  new  unions  with  the  elements  of  the  surrounding 
air,  thus  returning  to  their  normal  condition.  They  give 
out,  in  so  doing,  a  low  degree  of  heat,  which,  being  pro 
tracted  through  a  course  of  years,  makes  up,  in  the  end,  the 
precise  equivalent  of  that  expended  by  the  sun  in  forming 
the  wood — that  is,  the  power  expended  in  the  formation  of 
the  wood  is  all  released  in  the  dissolution  of  it. 

This  process  may  be  greatly  accelerated  by  heat.  If  a 
portion  of  the  wrood  is  raised  in  temperature  to  a  certain 
point,  the  elements  begin  to  combine  with  the  oxygen  near, 
with  so  much  violence  as  to  release  the  reserved  power 
with  great  rapidity.  And  as  this  force  re-appears  in  the 
form  of  heat,  the  next  portions  of  the  wood  are  at  once 
raised  to  the  right  temperature  to  allow  the  process  of  re- 


1&4  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

oxidation  to  go  on  rapidly  with  them.  This  is  the  process 
of  combustion.  Observations  and  experiments  on  decay 
ing  wood  have  been  made,  showing  that  the  amount  of  heat 
developed  by  the  combustion  of  a  mass  of  wood,  though 
much  more  intense  for  a  time,  is  the  same  in  amount  as 
that  which  is  set  free  by  the  slower  process  of  re-oxidation 
by  gradual  decay ;  both  being  the  equivalent  of  the  amount 
absorbed  by  the  leaves  from  the  sun,  in  the  process  of  de 
oxidizing  the  carbon  and  hydrogen  when  the  wood  was 
formed. 

The  force  imprisoned  in  these  unstable  compounds  may 
be  held  in  reserve  for  an  unlimited  period,  so  long  as  all 
opportunity  is  denied  them  of  returning  the  elements  that 
compose  them  to  their  original  combinations.  Such  a  case 
occurs  when  large  beds  of  vegetable  substances  are  buried 
under  layers  of  sediment  which  subsequently  become  stone,, 
and  thus  shut  the  hydrocarbonaceous  compounds  beneath 
them  from  all  access  to  oxygen.  The  beds  of  coal  thus 
formed  retain  their  reserved  force  for  periods  of  immense 
duration ;  and  when  at  length  the  material  thus  protected 
is  brought  to  the  surface,  and  made  to  give  up  its  treasured 
power,  it  manifests  its  efficiency  in  driving  machinery,  pro 
pelling  trains,  heating  furnaces,  or  diffusing  warmth  and 
comfort  around  the  family  fireside.  In  all  these  cases  the 
heat  and  power  developed  from  the  coal  is  heat  and  power 
derived  originally  from  the  sun,  and  now  set  free,  after 
having  lain  dormant  thousands  and  perhaps  millions  of 
years. 

This  simple  case  of  the  formation  of  hydrocarbons  from 
the  elements  furnished  by  carbonic  acid  and  water  is  only 
adduced  as  an  illustration  of  the  general  principle.  The 
modes  by  which  the  power  of  the  sun  actually  takes  effect 
in  the  decomposition  of  stable  compounds,  and  the  forma 
tion  of  unstable  ones  from  the  elements  thus  obtained,  are 


THE  ACTIVITY  OF  CHILDREN.  185 

innumerable,  and  the  processes  as  well  as  the  combinations 
that  result  are  extremely  complicated.  These  processes 
include  not  only  the  first  formation  of  the  unstable  com 
pounds  in  the  leaf,  but  also  an  endless  series  of  modifica 
tions  and  re-arrangements  which  they  subsequently  under 
go,  as  Vv'ell  in  the  other  organs  of  the  plant  as  in  those  of 
the  animal  when  they  are  finally  introduced  into  an  animal 
system.  In  all,  however,  the  general  result  is  substantially 
the  same — namely,  the  forcing  of  elements  into  unnatural 
combinations,  so  to  speak,  by  the  power  of  the  sun  acting 
through  the  instrumentality  of  vegetation,  in  order  that 
they  may  subsequently,  in  the  animal  system,  give  out  that 
power  again  by  the  effort  they  make  to  release  themselves 
from  the  coercion  imposed  upon  them,  and  to  return  to  the 
natural  unions  in  which  they  can  find  again  stability  and 
repose. 

One  of  the  chief  elements  employed  in  the  formation  of 
these  weakly-combined  substances  is  nitrogen — its  com 
pounds  being  designated  as  nitrogenous  substances,  and 
noted,  as  a  class,  for  the  facility  with  which  they  are  de 
composed.  Nitrogen  is,  in  fact,  the  great  weak-holder  of 
nature.  Young  students  in  chemistry,  when  they  learn 
that  nitrogen  is  distinguished  by  the  weakness  of  its  affini 
ties  for  other  elements,  and  its  consequent  great  inertness 
as  a  chemical  agent,  are  often  astonished  to  find  that  its 
compounds —  such  as  nitric  acid,  nitre,  which  gives  its  ex 
plosive  character  to  gunpowder,  nitro-glycerine,  gun-cot 
ton,  and  various  other  explosive  substances  which  it  helps 
to  form — are  among  the  most  remarkable  in  nature  for  the 
violence  and  intensity  of  their  action,  and  for  the  extent  to 
which  the  principle  of  vitality  avails  itself  of  them  as  mag 
azines  of  force,  upon  which  to  draw  in  the  fulfillment  of  its 
various  functions. 

But  this  is  really  just  what  should  be  expected.    It  is  the 


180  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

very  weakness  of  the  hold  which  nitrogen  maintains  upon 
the  elements  combined  with  it  that  facilitates  their  release, 
and  affords  them  the  opportunity  to  seize  with  so  much 
avidity  and  violence  on  those  for  which  they  have  a  strong 
attraction. 

It  is  as  if  a  huntsman  should  conduct  a  pack  of  ferocious 
dogs  into  a  field  occupied  by  a  flock  of  sheep,  quietly  graz 
ing,  holding  the  dogs  securely  by  very  strong  leashes.  The 
quiet  and  repose  of  the  field  might  not  be  seriously  dis 
turbed  ;  but  if,  on  the  other  hand,  a  child  comes  in,  lead 
ing  the  dogs  by  threads  which  they  can  easily  sunder,  a 
scene  of  the  greatest  violence  and  confusion  would  ensue. 

In  the  same  manner,  when  nitrogen,  holding  the  particles 
of  oxygen  with  which  it  is  combined  in  the  compounds 
above  named  by  a  very  feeble  control,  brings  them  into  the 
presence  of  other  substances  for  which  they  have  a  very 
strong  affinity,  they  release  themselves  at  once  from  their 
weak  custodian,  and  rush  into  the  combinations  which  their 
nature  demands  with  so  much  avidity  as  to  produce  com 
bustions,  deflagrations,  and  explosions  of  the  most  violent 
character. 

The  force  which  the  elements  display  in  these  reunions 
is  always — and  this  is  one  aspect  of  the  great  discovery  of 
modern  times  in  respect  to  the  persistence  or  constancy  of 
force  which  has  already  been  referred  to — precisely  the 
same  in  amount  as  that  which  was  required  for  dissever 
ing  them  from  their  original  combinations  with  such  sub 
stances  at  some  previous  time.  The  processes  of  vegetation 
are  the  chief  means  employed  for  effecting  the  original  sep 
arations,  by  the  power  of  the  sun,  and  for  forming  the  un 
stable  compounds  by  which  this  power  is  held  in  reserve. 
The  animal  system,  on  the  other  hand,  takes  in  these  com 
pounds,  remodels  them  so  far  as  is  required  to  adapt  them 
to  its  structure,  assimilates  them,  and  then,  as  occasion  re- 


THE  ACTIVITY  OF  CHILDREN.  187 

quires,  it  releases  the  concealed  force,  which  then  manifests 
itself  in  the  forms  of  animal  heat,  of  muscular  motion,  and 
of  cerebral  and  nervous  power. 

In  what  way,  and  to  what  extent,  the  knowledge  of  these 
truths  should  influence  us  in  the  management  and  training 
of  children  in  respect  to  their  extraordinary  activity,  is  the 
question  we  have  next  to  consider. 

Practical  Applications  of  these  Principles. 

If  we  watch  a  bird  for  a  little  while  hopping  along  upon 
the  ground,  and  up  and  down  between  the  ground  and  the 
branches  of  a  tree,  we  shall  at  first  be  surprised  at  his  in 
cessant  activity,  and  next,  if  we  reflect  a  little,  at  the  ut 
ter  aimlessness  and  uselessness  of  it.  He  runs  a  little  way 
along  the  path ;  then  he  hops  up  upon  a  twig,  then  down 
again  upon  the  ground ;  then  "  makes  believe "  peck  at 
something  which  he  imagines  or  pretends  that  he  sees  in 
the  grass ;  then,  canting  his  head  to  one  side  and  upward, 
the  branch  of  a  tree  there  happens  to  strike  his  eye,  upon 
which  he  at  once  flies  up  to  it.  Perching  himself  upon  it 
for  the  moment,  he  utters  a  burst  of  joyous  song,  and 
then,  instantly  afterwards,  down  he  comes  upon  the  ground 
again,  runs  along,  stops,  runs  along  a  little  farther,  stops 
again,  looks  around  him  a  moment,  as  if  wondering  what  to 
do  next,  and  then  flies  off  out  of  our  field  of  view.  If  we 
could  follow,  and  had  patience  to  watch  him  so  long,  we 
should  find  him  continuing  this  incessantly  changing  but 
never-ceasing  activity  all  the  day  long. 

We  sometimes  imagine  that  the  bird's  movements  are  to 
be  explained  by  supposing  that  he  is  engaged  in  the  search 
for  food  in  these  evolutions.  But  w"hen  we  reflect  how 
small  a  quantity  of  food  his  little  crop  will  contain,  we  shall 
be  at  once  convinced  that  a  large  proportion  of  his  apparent 
pecking  for  food  is  only  make-believe,  and  that  he  moves 


188  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

thus  incessantly  not  so  much  on  account  of  the  end  he  seeks 
to  attain  by  it,  as  on  account  of  the  very  pleasure  of  the 
motion.  He  hops  about  and  pecks,  not  for  the  love  of  any 
thing  he  expects  to  find,  but  just  for  the  love  of  hopping 
and  pecking. 

The  real  explanation  is  that  the  food  which  he  has  taken 
is  delivering  up,  within  his  system,  the  force  stored  in  it 
that  was  received  originally  from  the  beams  of  the  sun, 
while  the  plant  which  produced  it  was  growing.  This 
force  must  have  an  outlet,  and  it  finds  this  outlet  in  the  in 
cessant  activity  of  the  bird's  muscles  and  brain.  The  vari 
ous  objects  which  attract  his  attention  without,  invite  the 
force  to  expend  itself  in  certain  special  directions;  but  the 
impelling  cause  is  within,  and  not  without ;  and  were  there 
nothing  without  to  serve  as  objects  for  its  action,  the  neces 
sity  of  its  action  would  be  none  the  less  imperious.  The 
lion,  when  imprisoned  in  his  cage,  walks  to  and  fro  continu 
ously,  if  there  is  room  for  him  to  take  two  steps  and  turn ; 
and  if  there  is  not  room  for  this,  he  moves  his  head  inces 
santly  from  side  to  side.  The  force  within  him,  which  his 
vital  organs  are  setting  at  liberty  from  its  imprisonment  in 
his  food,  must  in  some  way  find  issue. 

Mothers  do  not  often  stop  to  speculate  upon,  and  may 
even,  perhaps,  seldom  observe  the  restless  and  incessant 
activity  of  birds,  but  that  of  their  children  forces  itself 
upon  their  attention  by  its  effects  in  disturbing  their  own 
quiet  avocations  and  pleasures;  and  they  often  wonder 
what  can  be  the  inducement  which  leads  to  such  a  perpet 
ual  succession  of  movements  made  apparently  without  mo 
tive  or  end.  And,  not  perceiving  any  possible  inducement 
to  account  for  it,  they  are  apt  to  consider  this  restless  ac 
tivity  so  causeless  and  unreasonable  as  to  make  it  a  fault 
for  which  the  child  is  to  be  censured  or  punished,  or  which 
they  are  to  attempt  to  cure  by  means  of  artificial  restraints. 


THE  ACTIVITY  OF  CHILDREN.  189 

They  would  not  attempt  such  repressions  as  this  if  they 
were  aware  that  all  this  muscular  and  mental  energy  of  ac 
tion  in  the  child  is  only  the  outward  manifestation  of  an  in 
ward  force  developed  in  a  manner  wholly  independent  of 
its  will — a  force,  too,  which  must  spend  itself  in  some  way 
or  other,  and  that,  if  not  allowed  to  do  this  in  its  own  way, 
by  impelling  the  limbs  and  members  to  outward  action,  it 
will  do  so  by  destroying  the  delicate  mechanism  within. 
We  see  this  in  the  case  of  men  who  are  doomed  for  long 
periods  to  solitary  confinement.  The  force  derived  from 
their  food,  and  released  within  their  systems  by  the  vital 
processes,  being  cut  oft'  by  the  silence  and  solitude  of  the 
dungeon  from  all  usual  and  natural  outlets,  begins  to  work 
mischief  within,  by  disorganizing  the  cerebral  and  other  vi 
tal  organs,  and  producing  insanity  and  death. 

Common  Mistake. 

We  make  a  great  mistake  when  we  imagine  that  children 
are  influenced  in  their  activity  mainly  by  a  desire  for  the 
objects  which  they  attain  by  it.  It  is  not  the  ends  attained, 
but  the  pleasurable  feeling  which  the  action  of  the  internal 
force,  issuing  by  its  natural  channels,  affords  them,  and  the 
sense  of  power  which  accompanies  the  action.  An  end 
which  presents  itself  to  be  attained  invites  this  force  to  act 
in  one  direction  rather  than  another,  but  it  is  the  action, 
and  not  the  end,  in  which  the  charm  resides. 

Give  a  child  a  bow  and  arrow,  and  send  him  out  into  the 
yard  to  try  it,  and  if  he  does  not  happen  to  see  any  thing 
to  shoot  at,  he  will  shoot  at  random,  into  the  air.  But  if 
there  is  any  object  which  will  serve  as  a  mark  in  sight,  it 
Beems  to  have  the  effect  of  drawing  his  aim  towards  it. 
He  shoots  at  the  vane  on  the  barn,  at  an  apple  on  a  tree,  a 
knot  in  a  fence — any  thing  which  will  serve  the  purpose  of 
a  mark.  This  is  not  because  he  has  any  end  to  accomplish 


190  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

in  hitting  the  vane,  the  apple,  or  the  knot,  but  only  because 
there  is  an  impulse  within  him  leading  him  to  shoot,  and  if 
there  happens  to  be  any  thing  to  shoot  at,  it  gives  that  im 
pulse  a  direction. 

It  is  precisely  the  same  with  the  incessant  muscular  ac 
tivity  of  a  child.  He  comes  into  a  room  and  sits  down  in 
the  first  seat  that  he  sees.  Then  he  jumps  up  and  runs  to 
another,  then  to  another,  until  he  has  tried  all  the  seats  in 
the  room.  This  is  not  because  he  particularly  wishes  to 
try  the  seats.  He  wishes  to  move,  and  the  seats  happen 
to  be  at  hand,  and  they  simply  give  direction  to  the  im 
pulse.  If  he  were  out  of  doors,  the  same  office  w  ould  be 
fulfilled  by  a  fence  which  he  might  climb  over,  instead  of 
going  through  an  open  gate  close  by;  or  a  wall  that  he 
could  walk  upon  with  difficulty,  instead  of  going,  without 
difficulty,  along  a  path  at  the  foot  of  it ;  or  a  pole  which  he 
could  try  to  climb,  when  there  was  no  motive  for  climbing 
it  but  a  desire  to  make  muscular  exertion ;  or  a  steep  bank 
wrhere  he  can  scramble  up,  when  there  is  nothing  that  he 
wishes  for  on  the  top  of  it. 

In  other  words,  the  things  that  children  do  are  not  done 
for  the  sake  of  the  things,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  doing. 

Parents  very  often  do  not  understand  this,  and  are  accord 
ingly  continually  asking  such  foolish  questions  as,  "  George, 
wrhat  do  you  wish  to  climb  over  that  fence  for,  when  there 
is  a  gate  all  open  close  by?"  "James,  what  good  do  you 
expect  to  get  by  climbing  up  that  tree,  when  you  know 
there  is  nothing  on  it,  not  even  a  bird's  nest  ?"  and,  "  Lucy, 
what  makes  you  keep  jumping  up  all  the  time  and  running 
about  to  different  places  ?  Why  can't  you,  when  you  get  a 
good  seat,  sit  still  in  it  ?" 

The  children,  if  they  understood  the  philosophy  of  the 
case,  might  answer,  "  We  don't  climb  over  the  fence  at  all 
because  we  wish  to  be  on  the  other  side  of  it ;  or  scramble 


THE  ACTIVITY  OF  CHILDREN.  191 

up  the  bank  for  the  sake  of  any  thing  that  is  on  the  top  of 
it ;  or  run  about  to  different  places  because  we  wish  to  be 
in  the  places  particularly.  It  is  the  internal  force  that  is 
in  us  working  itself  off,  and  it  works  itself  off  in  the  ways 
that  come  most  readily  to  hand." 

Various  Modes  in  which  the  Reserved  Force  reappears. 

The  force  thus  stored  in  the  food  and  liberated  within 
the  system  by  the  vital  processes,  finds  scope  for  action  in 
several  different  ways,  prominent  among  which  are,  First,  in 
the  production  of  animal  heat;  Secondly,  in  muscular  con 
tractions  and  the  motions  of  the  limbs  and  members  result 
ing  from  them ;  and  Thirdly,  in  mental  phenomena  connect 
ed  with  the  action  of  the  brain  and  the  nerves.  This  last 
branch  of  the  subject  is  yet  enveloped  in  great  mystery; 
but  the  proof  seems  to  be  decisive  that  the  nervous  system 
of  man  comprises  organs  which  are  actively  exercised  in 
the  performance  of  mental  operations,  and  that  in  this  exer 
cise  they  consume  important  portions  of  the  vital  force.  If, 
for  example,  a  child  is  actually  engaged  at  play,  and  we  di 
rect  him  to  take  a  seat  and  sit  still,  he  will  find  it  very  dif 
ficult  to  do  so.  The  inward  force  will  soon  begin  to  strug 
gle  within  him  to  find  an  issue.  But  if,  while  he  is  so  sit 
ting,  we  begin  to  relate  to  him  some  very  surprising  or  ex 
citing  story,  to  occupy  his  mind,  he  will  become  motionless, 
and  very  likely  remain  so  until  the  story  is  ended.  It  is 
supposed  that  in  such  cases  the  force  is  drawn  off,  so  to 
speak,  through  the  cerebral  organs  which  it  is  employed  in 
keeping  in  play,  as  the  instruments  by  which  the  emotions 
and  ideas  which  the  story  awakens  in  the  mind  are  evolved. 
This  part  of  the  subject,  as  has  already  been  remarked,  is 
full  of  mystery ;  but  the  general  fact  that  a  portion  of  the 
force  derived  from  the  food  is  expended  in  actions  of  the 
brain  and  nervous  system  seems  well  established. 


192  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

Indeed,  the  whole  subject  of  the  reception  and  the  stor 
ing  up  of  force  from  the  sun  by  the  processes  of  vegetable 
and  animal  life,  and  the  subsequent  liberation  of  it  in  the 
fulfillment  of  the  various  functions  of  the  animal  system,  is 
full  of  difficulties  and  mysteries.  It  is  only  a  very  simple 
view  of  the  general  principle  which  is  presented  in  these 
articles.  In  nature  the  operations  are  not  simple  at  all. 
They  are  involved  in  endless  complications  which  are  yet 
only  to  a  very  limited  extent  unravelled.  The  general  prin 
ciple  is,  however,  well  established ;  and  if  understood,  even 
as  a  general  principle,  by  parents  and  teachers,  it  will  great 
ly  modify  their  action  in  dealing  with  the  incessant  restless 
ness  and  activity  of  the  young.  It  will  teach  them,  among 
other  things,  the  following  practical  rules : 

Practical  Rules. 

1.  Never  find  fault  with  children  for  their  incapacity  to 
keep  still.  You  may  stop  the  supply  of  force,  if  you  will, 
by  refusing  to  give  them  food;  but  if  you  continue  the 
supply,  you  must  not  complain  of  its  manifesting  itself  in 
action.  After  giving  your  boy  his  breakfast,  to  find  fault 
with  him  for  being  incessantly  in  motion  when  his  system 
has  absorbed  it,  is  simply  to  find  fault  with  him  for  being 
healthy  and  happy.  To  give  children  food  and  then  to 
restrain  the  resulting  activity,  is  conduct  very  analogous 
to  that  of  the  engineer  who  should  lock  the  action  of  his 
engine,  turn  all  the  stop-cocks,  and  shut  down  the  safety- 
valve,  while  he  still  went  on  all  the  time  putting  in  coal  un 
der  the  boiler.  The  least  that  he  could  expect  would  be  a 
great  hissing  and  fizzling  at  all  the  joints  of  his  machine; 
and  it  would  be  only  by  means  of  such  a  degree  of  loose 
ness  in  the  joints  as  would  allow  of  the  escape  of  the  impris 
oned  force  in  this  way  that  could  prevent  the  repression 
ending  in  a  frightful  catastrophe. 


THE  ACTIVITY  OF  CHILDREN.  1U3 

Now,  nine-tenths  of  the  whispering  and  playing  of  chil 
dren  in  school,  and  of  the  noise,  the  rudeness,  and  the  petty 
mischief  of  children  at  home,  is  just  this  hissing  and  fiz 
zling  of  an  imprisoned  power,  and  nothing  more. 

In  a  word,  we  must  favor  and  promote,  by  every  means 
in  our  power,  the  activity  of  children,  not  censure  and  re 
press  it.  We  may  endeavor  to  turn  it  aside  from  wrong 
channels— that  is,  to  prevent  its  manifesting  itself  in  ways 
injurious  to  them  or  annoying  to  others.  We  must  not, 
however,  attempt  to  divert  it  from  these  channels  by  dam 
ming  it  up,  but  by  opening  other  channels  that  will  draw  it 
away  in  better  directions. 

2.  In  encouraging  the  activity  of  children,  and  in  guid 
ing  the  direction  of  it  in  their  hours  of  play,  we  must  not  ex 
pect  to  make  it  available  for  useful  results,  other  than  that 
of  promoting  their  own  physical  development  and  health. 
At  least,  we  can  do  this  only  in  a  very  limited  degree. 
Almost  all  useful  results  require  for  their  attainment  a  long 
continuance  of  efforts  of  the  same  kind — that  is,  expendi 
ture  of  the  vital  force  by  the  continued  action  of  the  same 
organs.  Now,  it  is  a  principle  of  nature  that  while  the  or 
gans  of  an  animal  system  are  in  process  of  formation  and 
growth,  they  can  exercise  their  power  only  for  a  very  brief 
period  at  a  time  without  exhaustion.  This  necessitates  on 
the  part  of  all  young  animals  incessant  changes  of  action, 
or  alternations  of  action  and  repose.  A  farmer  of  forty 
years  of  age,  whose  organs  are  well  developed  and  mature, 
will  chop  wood  all  day  without  excessive  fatigue.  Then, 
when  he  comes  home  at  night,  he  will  sit  for  three  hours  in 
the  evening  upon  the  settle  by  his  fireside,  thinking  —  his 
mind  occupied,  perhaps,  upon  the  details  of  the  manage 
ment  of  his  farm,  or  upon  his  plans  for  the  following  day. 
The  vital  force  thus  expends  itself  for  many  successive 
hours  through  his  muscles,  and  then,  while  his  muscles  are 

I 


li>4  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

at  rest,  it  finds  its  egress  for  several  other  hours  through 
the  brain.  But  in  the  child  the  mode  of  action  must 
change  every  few  minutes.  He  is  made  tired  with  live 
minutes'  labor.  He  is  satisfied  with  five  minutes'  rest.  Ho 
will  ride  his  rocking-horse,  if  alone,  a  short  time,  and  then 
he  comes  to  you  to  ask  you  to  tell  him  a  story.  While  list 
ening  to  the  story,  his  muscles  are  resting,  and  the  force  is 
spending  its  strength  in  working  the  mechanism  of  the 
brain.  If  you  make  your  story  too  long,  the  brain,  in  turn, 
becomes  fatigued,  and  he  feels  instinctively  impelled  to  di 
vert  the  vital  force  again  into  muscular  action. 

If,  instead  of  being  alone  with  his  rocking-horse,  he  has 
company  there,  he  will  seem  to  continue  his  bodily  effort  a 
long  time ;  but  he  does  not  really  do  so,  for  he  stops  con 
tinually,  to  talk  with  his  companion,  thus  allowing  his  mus 
cles  to  rest  for  a  brief  period,  during  which  the  vital  force 
expends  its  strength  in  carrying  on  trains  of  thought  and 
emotion  through  the  brain. 

He  is  not  to  be  blamed  for  this  seeming  capriciousness. 
These  frequent  changes  in  the  mode  of  action  arc  a  neces 
sity,  and  this  necessity  evidently  unfits  him  for  any  kind  of 
monotonous  or  continued  exertion — the  only  kind  which,  in 
ordinary  cases,  can  be  made  conducive  to  any  useful  results. 

3.  Parents  at  home  and  teachers  at  school  must  recog 
nize  these  physiological  laws,  relating  to  the  action  of  the 
young,  and  make  their  plans  and  arrangements  conform 
to  them.  The  periods  of  confinement  to  any  one  mode  of 
action  in  the  very  young,  and  especially  mental  action,  must 
be  short;  and  they  must  alternate  frequently  with  other 
modes.  That  rapid  succession  of  bodily  movements  and 
of  mental  ideas,  and  the  emotions  mingling  and  alternating 
with  them,  which  constitutes  what  children  call  play,  must 
be  regarded  not  simply  as  an  indulgence,  but  as  a  necessity 
for  them.  The  piny  must  be  considered  as  essential  as  the 


TIIE  ACTIVITY  OF  CHILDREN.  105 

study,  and  that  not  merely  for  the  very  young  but  for  all, 
up  to  the  age  of  maturity.  For  older  pupils,  in  the  best 
institutions  of  the  country,  some  suitable  provision  is  made 
for  this  want ;  but  the  mothers  of  young  children  at  home 
arc  often  at  a  loss  by  what  means  to  effect  this  purpose, 
and  many  are  very  imperfectly  aware  of  the  desirableness, 
and  even  the  necessity,  of  doing  this.  As  for  the  means  of 
accomplishing  the  object — that  is,  providing  channels  for 
the  complete  expenditure  of  this  force  in  the  safest  and 
most  agreeable  manner  for  the  child,  and  the  least  incon 
venient  and  troublesome  for  others,  much  must  depend  upon 
the  tact,  the  ingenuity,  and  the  discretion  of  the  mother. 
It  will,  however,  be  a  great  point  gained  for  her  when  she 
once  fully  comprehends  that  the  tendency  to  incessant  ac 
tivity,  and  even  to  turbulence  and  noise,  on  the  part  of  her 
child,  only  shows  that  he  is  all  right  in  his  vital  machinery, 
and  that  this  exuberance  of  energy  is  something  to  be 
pleased  with  and  directed,  not  denounced  and  restrained. 


196  GENTLE  MEASURES. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  IMAGINATION  IN  CHILDREN. 

THE  reader  may,  perhaps,  recollect  that  in  the  last  chap 
ter  there  was  an  intimation  that  a  portion  of  the  force 
which  was  produced,  or  rather  liberated  and  brought  into 
action,  by  the  consumption  of  food  in  the  vital  system,  ex 
pended  itself  in  the  development  of  thoughts,  emotions,  and 
other  forms  of  mental  action,  through  the  organization  of 
the  brain  and  of  the  nerves. 

Expenditure  of  Force  through  the  JSrain. 

The  whole  subject  of  the  expenditure  of  material  force 
in  maintaining  those  forms  of  mental  action  which  are  car 
ried  on  through  the  medium  of  bodily  organs,  it  must  be 
admitted,  is  involved  in  great  obscurity ;  for  it  is  only  a 
glimmering  of  light  which  science  has  yet  been  able  to 
throw  into  this  field.  It  is,  however,  becoming  the  settled 
opinion,  among  all  well-informed  persons,  that  the  soul,  dur 
ing  the  time  of  its  connection  with  a  material  system  in 
this  life,  performs  many  of  those  functions  which  we  class 
as  mental,  through  the  medium,  or  instrumentality,  in  some 
mysterious  way,  of  material  organs,  just  as  \ve  all  know  is 
the  case  with  the  sensations — that  is,  the  impressions  made 
through  the  organs  of  sense ;  and  that  the  maintaining  of 
these  mental  organs,  so  to  speak,  in  action,  involves  a  cer 
tain  expenditure  of  some  form  of  physical  force,  the  source 
of  this  force  being  in  the  food  that  is  consumed  in  the  nour 
ishment  of  the  body. 

There  is  certainly  no  apparent  reason  why  there  should 


THE  IMAGINATION  IN  CHILDREN.  197 

be  any  antecedent  presumption  against  the  supposition  that 
the  soul  performs  the  act  of  remembering  or  of  conceiving 
an  imaginary  scene  through  the  instrumentality  of  a  bodily 
organ,  more  than  that  it  should  receive  a  sensation  of  light 
or  of  sound  through  such  a  channel.  The  question  of  the 
independent  existence  and  the  immateriality  of  the  think 
ing  and  feeling  principle,  which  takes  cognizance  of  these 
thoughts  and  sensations,  is  not  at  all  affected  by  any  inqui 
ries  into  the  nature  of  the  instrumentality  by  means  of 
which,  in  a  particular  stage  of  its  existence,  it  performs 
these  functions. 

Phenomena  explained  by  this  Principle. 
This  truth,  if  it  be  indeed  a  truth,  throws  great  light  on 
what  would  be  otherwise  quite  inexplicable  in  the  playful 
activity  of  the  mental  faculties  of  children.  The  curious 
fantasies,  imaginings,  and  make-believes — the  pleasure  of 
listening  to  marvellous  and  impossible  tales,  and  of  hearing 
odd  and  unpronounceable  words  or  combination  of  words 
— the  love  of  acting,  and  of  disguises — of  the  impersona 
tion  of  inanimate  objects — of  seeing  things  as  they  are  not, 
and  of  creating  and  giving  reality  to  what  has  no  existence 
except  in  their  own  minds — are  all  the  gambollings  and 
frolics,  so  to  speak,  of  the  embryo  faculties  just  becoming 
conscious  of  their  existence,  and  affording,  like  the  muscles 
of  motion,  so  many  different  issues  for  the  internal  force 
derived  from  the  food.  Thus  the  action  of  the  mind  of  a 
child,  in  holding  an  imaginary  conversation  with  a  doll,  or 
in  inventing  or  in  relating  an  impossible  fairy  story,  or  in 
converting  a  switch  on  which  he  pretends  to  be  riding  into 
a  prancing  horse,  is  precisely  analogous  to  that  of  the  mus 
cles  of  the  lamb,  or  the  calf,  or  any  other  young  animal  in 
its  gambols — that  is,  it  is  the  result  of  the  force  which  the 
vital  functions  are  continually  developing  within  the  sys- 


1(J3  GENTLE  MEASUliES. 

tern,  and  which  flows  and  must  flow  continually  out  through 
whatever  channels  are  open  to  it ;  and  in  thus  flowing,  sets 
all  the  various  systems  of  machinery  into  play,  each  in  its 
own  appropriate  manner. 

In  any  other  view  of  the  subject  than  this,  many  of  the 
phenomena  of  childhood  would  be  still  more  wonderful 
and  inexplicable  than  they  are.  One  would  have  supposed, 
for  example,  that  the  imagination — being,  as  is  commonly 
thought,  one  of  the  most  exulted  and  refined  of  the  mental 
faculties  of  man — would  be  one  of  the  latest,  in  the  order 
of  time,  to  manifest  itself  in  the  development  of  the  mind ; 
instead  of  which  it  is,  in  fact,  one  of  the  earliest.  Children 
live,  in  a  great  measure,  from  the  earliest  age  in  an  ideal 
world — their  pains  and  their  pleasures,  their  joys  and  their 
fears  being,  to  a  vast  extent,  the  concomitants  of  phantasms 
and  illusions  having  often  the  slightest  bond  of  connection 
with  the  realities  around  them.  The  realities  themselves, 
moreover,  often  have  far  greater  influence  over  them  by 
what  they  suggest  than  by  what  they  are. 

Indeed,  the  younger  the  child  is,  within  reasonable  limits, 
the  more  susceptible  he  seems  to  be  to  the  power  of  the 
imagination,  and  the  more  easily  his  mind  and  heart  are 
reached  and  influenced  through  this  avenue.  At  a  very 
early  period  the  realities  of  actual  existence  and  the  phan 
tasms  of  the  mind  seem  inseparably  mingled,  and  it  is  only 
after  much  experience  and  a  considerable  development  of 
his  powers,  that  the  line  of  distinction  between  them  be 
comes  defined.  The  power  of  investing  an  elongated  bag 
of  bran  with  the  attributes  and  qualities  of  a  thinking  be 
ing,  so  as  to  make  it  an  object  of  solicitude  and  affection, 
which  would  seem  to  imply  a  high  exercise  of  one  of  the 
most  refined  and  exalted  of  the  human  faculties,  does  not 
come,  as  we  might  have  expected,  at  the  end  of  a  long  pe 
riod  of  progress  and  development,  but  springs  into  exist- 


THE  IMAGINATION  IN  CHILDREN.  199 

ence,  ns  it  were,  at  once,  in  the  very  earliest  years.  The 
progress  and  development  are  required  to  enable  the  child 
to  perceive  that  the  rude  and  shapeless  doll  is  not  a  living 
and  lovable  thing.  This  mingling  of  the  real  and  imagi 
nary  worlds  shows  itself  to  the  close  observer  in  a  thou 
sand  curious  ways. 

The  true  explanation  of  the  phenomenon  seems  to  be  that 
the  various  embryo  faculties  are  brought  into  action  by  the 
vital  force  at  first  in  a  very  irregular,  intermingled,  and  ca 
pricious  manner,  just  as  the  muscles  are  in  the  endless  and 
objectless  play  of  the  limbs  and  members.  They  develop 
themselves  and  grow  by  this  very  action,  and  we  ought  not 
only  to  indulge,  but  to  cherish  the  action  in  all  its  beautiful 
manifestations  by  every  means  in  our  power.  These  mental 
organs,  so  to  speak — that  is,  the  organs  of  the  brain,  through 
which,  while  its  connection  with  the  body  continues,  the  mind 
performs  its  mental  functions — grow  and  thrive,  as  the  mus 
cles  do,  by  being  reasonably  kept  in  exercise. 

It  is  evident,  from  these  facts,  that  the  parent  should  be 
pleased  with,  and  should  encourage  the  exercise  of  these 
embryo  powers  in  his  children ;  and  both  father  and  moth 
er  may  be  greatly  aided  in  their  efforts  to  devise  means  for 
reaching  and  influencing  their  hearts  by  means  of  them, 
and  especially  through  the  action  of  the  imagination,  which 
will  be  found,  when  properly  employed,  to  be  capable  of 
exercising  an  almost  magical  power  of  imparting  great  at 
tractiveness  and  giving  great  effect  to  lessons  of  instruction 
which,  in  their  simple  form,  would  be  dull,  tiresome,  and  in 
effective.  Precisely  what  is  meant  by  this  will  be  shown 
more  clearly  by  some  examples. 

Methods  exemplified. 

One  of  the  simplest  and  easiest  modes  by  whicli  a  mother 
can  avail  herself  of  the  vivid  imagination  of  the  child  in 


200  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

amusing  and  entertaining  him,  is  by  holding  conversations 
with  representations  of  persons,  or  even  of  animals,  in  the 
pictures  which  she  shows  him.  Thus,  in  the  case,  for  ex 
ample,  of  a  picture  which  she  is  showing  to  her  child  sit 
ting  in  her  lap — the  picture  containing,  we  will  suppose,  a 
representation  of  a  little  girl  with  books  under  her  arm — 
she  may  say, 

"My  little  girl,  where  are  you  going? — I  am  going" 
(speaking  now  in  a  somewhat  altered  voice,  to  represent 
the  voice  of  the  little  girl)  "  to  school. — Ah !  you  are  go 
ing  to  school.  You  don't  look  quite  old  enough  to  go  to 
school.  Who  sits  next  to  you  at  school  ? — George  Williams. 
— George  Williams  ?  Is  he  a  good  boy  ? — Yes,  he's  a  very 
good  boy. — I  am  glad  you  have  a  good  boy,  and  one  that 
is  kind  to  you,  to  sit  by  you.  That  must  be  very  pleasant." 
And  so  on,  as  long  as  the  child  is  interested  in  listening. 

Or,  "  What  is  your  name,  my  little  girl  ? — My  name  is 
Lucy. — That's  a  pretty  name  !  And  where  do  you  live? — I 
live  in  that  house  under  the  trees. — Ah !  I  see  the  house. 
And  wrhere  is  your  room  in  that  house? — My  room  is  the 
one  where  you  see  the  window  open. — I  see  it.  What  have 
you  got  in  your  room  ? — I  have  a  bed,  and  a  table  by  the 
window;  and  I  keep  my  doll  there.  I  have  got  a  cradle 
for  my  doll,  and  a  little  trunk  to  keep  her  clothes  in.  And 
I  have  got —  The  mother  may  go  on  in  this  way,  and  de 
scribe  a  great  number  and  variety  of  objects  in  the  room, 
such  as  are  calculated  to  interest  and  please  the  little  list 
ener. 

It  is  the  pleasurable  exercise  of  some  dawning  faculty 
or  faculties  acting  through  embryo  organs  of  the  brain,  by 
which  the  mind  can  picture  to  itself,  more  or  less  vividly, 
unreal  scenes,  which  is  the  source  of  the  enjoyment  in  such 
cases  as  this. 

A  child  may  be  still  more  interested,  perhaps,  by  imag- 


THE  IMAGINATION  IN  CHILDREN.  'J01 

inary  conversations  of  this  kind  with  pictures  of  animals, 
and  by  varying  the  form  of  them  in  such  a  way  as  to  call  a 
new  set  of  mental  faculties  into  play ;  as,  for  example, 

"Here  is  a  picture  of  a  squirrel.  I'll  ask  him  where  he 
lives.  '  Bunny  !  bunny  !  stop  a  minute ;  I  want  to  speak  to 
you.  I  want  you  to  tell  me  where  you  live. — I  live  in  my 
hole. — Where  is  your  hole? — It  is  under  that  big  log  that 
you  see  back  in  the  woods.'  Yes"  (speaking  now  to  the 
child), " I  see  the  log.  Do  you  see  it?  Touch  it  with  your 
finger.  Yes,  that  must  be  it.  But  I  don't  see  any  hole. 
'  Bunny '  (assuming  now  the  tone  of  speaking  again  to  the 
squirrel),  ' 1  don't  see  your  hole. — No,  I  did  not  mean  that 
any  body  should  see  it.  I  made  it  in  a  hidden  place  in  the 
ground,  so  as  to  have  it  out  of  sight. — I  wish  I  could  see 
it,  and  I  wish  more  that  I  could  look  down  into  it  and  see 
what  is  there.  What  is  there  in  your  hole,  bunny? — My 
nest  is  there,  and  my  little  bunnies. — How  many  little  bun 
nies  have  you  got  ?' " — And  so  on,  to  any  extent  that  you 
desire. 

It  is  obvious  that  conversations  of  this  kind  may  be  made 
the  means  of  conveying,  indirectly,  a  great  deal  of  instruc 
tion  to  young  children  on  a  great  variety  of  subjects;  and 
lessons  of  duty  may  be  inculcated  thus  in  a  very  effective 
manner,  and  by  a  method  which  is  at  the  same  time  easy 
and  agreeable  for  the  mother,  and  extremely  attractive  to 
the  child. 

This  may  seem  a  very  simple  thing,  and  it  is  really  very 
simple;  but  any  mother  who  has  never  resorted  to  this 
method  of  amusing  and  instructing  her  child  will  be  sur 
prised  to  find  what  an  easy  and  inexhaustible  resource  for 
her  it  may  become.  Children  are  always  coming  to  ask 
for  stories,  and  the  mother  often  has  no  story  at  hand,  and 
her  mind  is  too  much  preoccupied  to  invent  one.  Here  is 
a  ready  resort  in  every  such  emergency. 

12 


203  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

Story  fitted  to  a  Picture. 

"Very  well,"  replies  the  mother  to  such  a  request,  "I'll 
tell  you  a  story;  but  I  must  have  a  picture  to  my  story. 
Find  me  a  picture  in  some  book." 

The  child  brings  a  picture,  no  matter  what.  There  is  no 
possible  picture  that  will  not  suggest  to  a  person  possessed 
of  ordinary  ingenuity  an  endless  number  of  talks  to  interest 
and  amuse  the  child.  To  take  an  extreme  case,  suppose 
the  picture  is  a  rude  pencil  drawing  of  a  post,  and  nothing 
besides.  You  can  imagine  a  boy  hidden  behind  the  post, 
and  you  can  call  to  him,  and  finally  obtain  an  answer  from 
him,  and  have  a  long  talk  with  him  about  his  play  and  who 
he  is  hiding  from,  and  what  other  way  he  has  of  playing 
with  his  friend.  Or  you  can  talk  with  the  post  directly. 
Ask  him  where  he  came  from,  who  put  him  in  the  ground, 
and  what  he  was  put  in  the  ground  for,  and  what  kind  of 
a  tree  he  was  when  he  was  a  part  of  a  tree  growing  in  the 
woods ;  and,  following  the  subject  out,  the  conversation  may 
be  the  means  of  not  only  amusing  the  child  for  the  mo 
ment,  but  also  of  gratifying  his  curiosity,  and  imparting  a 
great  amount  of  useful  information  to  him  which  will  ma 
terially  aid  in  the  development  of  his  powers. 

Or  you  may  ask  the  post  whether  he  has  any  relatives, 
and  he  may  reply  that  he  has  a  great  many  cousins.  He 
has  some  cousins  that  live  in  the  city,  and  they  are  called 
lamp-posts,  and  their  business  is  to  hold  lamps  to  light 
people  along  the  streets;  and  he  has  some  other  cousins 
who  stand  in  a  long  row  and  hold  up  the  telegraph-wire  to 
carry  messages  from  one  part  of  the  world  to  another ;  and 
so  on  without  end.  If  all  this  may  done  by  means  of  a 
rude  representation  of  a  simple  post,  it  may  easily  be  seen 
that  no  picture  which  the  child  can  possibly  bring  can  fail 
to  serve  as  a  subject  for  such  conversations. 


THE  IMAGINATION  IX  CHILDREN.  203 

Some  mothers  may,  perhaps,  think  it  must  require  a  great 
deal  of  ingenuity  and  skill  to  carry  out  these  ideas  effect 
ively  in  practice,  and  that  is  true;  or  rather,  it  is  true  that 
there  is  in  it  scope  for  the  exercise  of  a  great  deal  of  inge 
nuity  and  skill,  and  even  of  genius,  for  those  who  possess 
these  qualities  ;  but  the  degree  of  ingenuity  required  for  a 
commencement  in  this  method  is  very  small,  and  that  nec 
essary  for  complete  success  in  it  is  very  easily  acquired. 

Personification  of  Inanimate  Objects. 

It  will  at  once  occur  to  the  mother  that  any  inanimate 
object  may  be  personified  in  this  way  and  addressed  as  a 
living  and  intelligent  being.  Your  child  is  sick,  I  will  sup 
pose,  and  is  somewhat  feverish  and  fretful.  In  adjusting 
his  dress  you  prick  him  a  little  with  a  pin,  arid  the  pain 
and  annoyance  acting  on  his  morbid  sensibilities  bring  out 
expressions  of  irritation  and  ill-humor.  Now  you  may,  if 
you  please,  tell  him  that  he  must  not  be  so  impatient,  that 
you  did  not  mean  to  hurt  him,  that  he  must  not  mind  a  lit 
tle  prick,  and  the  like,  and  you  will  meet  with  the  ordinary 
success  that  attends  such  admonitions.  Or,  in  the  spirit  of 
the  foregoing  suggestions,  you  may  say, 

"  Did  the  pin  prick  you  ?  I'll  catch  the  little  rogue,  and 
hear  what  he  has  to  say  for  himself.  Ah,  here  he  is — I've 
caught  him  !  I'll  hold  him  fast.  Lie  still  in  my  lap,  and 
we  will  hear  what  he  has  to  say. 

" '  Look  up  here,  my  little  prickler,  and  tell  me  what  your 
name  is. — My  name  is  pin. — Ah,  your  name  is  pin,  is  it? 
I  low  bright  you  are!  How  came  you  to  be  so  bright? — 
Oh,  they  brightened  me  when  they  made  me.  —  Indeed! 
And  how  did  they  make  you  ? — They  made  me  in  a  ma 
chine. — In  a  machine  ?  That's  very  curious  !  How  did 
they  make  you  in  the  machine?  Tell  us  all  about  it! — 
They  made  me  out  of  wire.  First  the  machine  cut  off  a 


204  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

piece  of  the  wire  long  enough  to  make  me,  and  then  I  was 
carried  around  to  different  parts  of  the  machine  to  have 
different  things  done  to  me.  I  went  first  to  one  part  to 
get  straightened.  Don't  you  see  how  straight  I  am? — 
Yes,  you  are  very  straight  indeed. — Then  I  went  to  anoth 
er  part  of  the  machine  and  had  my  head  put  on ;  and  then 
I  went  to  another  part  and  had  my  point  sharpened ;  and 
then  I  was  polished,  and  covered  all  over  with  a  beautiful 
silvering,  to  make  me  bright  and  white.' " 

And  so  on  indefinitely.  The  mother  may  continue  the 
talk  as  long  as  the  child  is  interested,  by  letting  the  pin 
give  an  account  of  the  various  adventures  that  happened  to 
it  in  the  course  of  its  life,  and  finally  call  it  to  account  for 
pricking  a  poor  little  sick  child. 

Any  mother  can  judge  whether  such  a  mode  of  treating 
the  case,  or  the  more  usual  one  of  gravely  exhorting  the 
child  to  patience  and  good-humor,  when  sick,  is  likely  to  be 
most  effectual  in  soothing  the  nervous  irritation  of  the  lit 
tle  patient,  and  restoring  its  mind  to  a  condition  of  calm 
ness  and  repose. 

The  mother  who  reads  these  suggestions  in  a  cursory 
manner,  and  contents  herself  with  saying  that  they  are  very 
good,  but  makes  no  resolute  and  persevering  effort  to  ac 
quire  for  herself  the  ability  to  avail  herself  of  them,  will 
have  no  idea  of  the  immense  practical  value  of  them  as  a 
means  of  aiding  her  in  her  work,  and  in  promoting  the  hap 
piness  of  her  children.  But  if  she  will  make  the  attempt, 
she  will  most  certainly  find  enough  encouragement  in  her 
first  effort  to  induce  her  to  persevere. 

She  must,  moreover,  not  only  originate,  herself,  modes  of 
amusing  the  imagination  of  her  children,  but  must  fall  in 
with  and  aid  those  which  they  originate.  If  your  little 
daughter  is  playing  with  her  doll,  look  up  from  your  work 
and  say  a  fe\v  words  to  the  doll  or  the  child  in  a  grave  and 


THE  IMAGINATION  AY  CHILDREN .  207 

serious  manner,  assuming  that  the  doll  is  a  living  and  sen 
tient  being.  If  your  boy  is  playing  horses  in  the  garden 
while  you  are  there  attending  to  your  flowers,  ask  him  with 
all  gravity  what  he  values  his  horse  at,  and  whether  he 
wishes  to  sell  him.  Ask  him  whether  he  ever  bites,  or 
breaks  out  of  his  pasture;  and  give  him  some  advice  about 
not  driving  him  too  fast  up  hill,  and  not  giving  him  oats 
when  he  is  warm.  He  will  at  once  enter  into  such  a  con 
versation  in  the  most  serious  manner,  and  the  pleasure  of 
his  play  will  be  greatly  increased  by  your  joining  with  him 
in  maintaining  the  illusion. 

There  is  a  still  more  important  advantage  than  the  tem 
porary  increase  to  your  children's  happiness  by  acting  on 
this  principle.  By  thus  joining  with  them,  even  for  a  few 
moments,  in  their  play,  you  establish  a  closer  bond  of  sym 
pathy  between  your  own  heart  and  theirs,  and  attach  them 
to  you  more  strongly  than  you  can  do  by  any  other  means. 
Indeed,  in  many  cases  the  most  important  moral  lessons 
can  be  conveyed  in  connection  with  these  illusions  of  chil 
dren,  and  in  a,  way  not  only  more  agreeable  but  far  more 
effective  than  by  any  other  method. 

Influence  without  Claim  to  Authority. 
Acting  through  the  imagination  of  children — if  the  art 
of  doing  so  is  once  understood — will  prove  at  once  an  in 
valuable  and  an  inexhaustible  resource  for  all  those  classes  of 
persons  who  are  placed  in  situations  requiring  them  to  ex 
ercise  an  influence  over  children  without  having  any  proper 
authority  over  them;  such,  for  example,  as  uncles  and  aunts, 
older  brothers  and  sisters,  and  even  visitors  residing  more 
or  less  permanently  in  a  family,  and  desirous,  from  a  wish 
to  do  good,  of  promoting  the  welfare  and  the  improvement 
of  the  younger  members  of  it.  It  often  happens  that  such 
a  visitor,  without  any  actual  right  of  authority,  acquires  a 


208  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

greater  influence  over  the  minds  of  the  children  than  the 
parents  themselves ;  and  many  a  mother,  who,  with  all  her 
threatenings  and  scoldings,  and  even  punishments,  can  not 
make  herself  obeyed,  is  surprised  at  the  absolute  ascenden 
cy  which  some  inmate  residing  in  the  family  acquires  over 
them  by  means  so  silent,  gentle,  and  unpretending,  that  they 
seem  mysterious  and  almost  magical.  "  What  is  the  secret 
of  it  ?"  asks  the  mother  sometimes  in  such  a  case.  "  You 
never  punish  the  children,  and  you  never  scold  them,  and 
yet  they  obey  you  a  great  deal  more  readily  and  certainly 
than  they  do  me." 

There  are  a  great  many  different  means  which  may  be 
employed  in  combination  with  each  other  for  acquiring 
this  kind  of  ascendency,  and  among  them  the  use  which 
may  be  made  of  the  power  of  the  imagination  in  the  young 
is  one  of  the  most  important. 

The  Intermediation  of  the  Dolls  again. 

A  young  teacher,  for  example,  in  returning  from  school 
some  day,  finds  the  children  of  the  family  in  which  she  re 
sides,  who  have  been  playing  with  their  dolls  in  the  yard, 
engaged  in  some  angry  dispute.  The  first  impulse  with 
many  persons  in  such  a  case  might  be  to  sit  down  with  the 
children  upon  the  seat  where  they  were  playing,  and  re 
monstrate  with  them,  though  in  a  very  kind  and  gentle 
manner,  on  the  wrongfulness  and  folly  of  such  disputing^, 
to  show  them  that  the  thing  in  question  is  not  worth  dis 
puting  about,  that  angry  feelings  are  uncomfortable  and  un 
happy  feelings,  and  that  it  is,  consequently,  not  only  a  sin, 
but  a  folly  to  indulge  in  them. 

Now  such  a  remonstrance,  if  given  in  a  kind  and  gentle 
manner,  will  undoubtedly  do  good.  The  children  will  be 
somewhat  less  likely  to  become  involved  in  such  a  dispute 
immediately  after  it  than  before,  and  in  process  of  timc» 


THE  IMAGINATION  IN  CHILDREN.  203 

and  through  many  repetitions  of  such  counsels,  the  fault 
may  be  gradually  cured.  Still,  at  the  time,  it  will  make  the 
children  uncomfortable,  by  producing  in  their  minds  a  cer 
tain  degree  of  irritation.  They  will  be  very  apt  to  listen 
in  silence,  and  with  a  morose  and  sullen  air ;  and  if  they  do 
not  call  the  admonition  a  scolding,  on  account  of  the  kind 
and  gentle  tones  in  which  it  is  delivered,  they  will  be  very 
apt  to  consider  it  much  in  that  light. 

Suppose,  however,  that,  instead  of  dealing  with  the  case 
in  this  matter-of-fact  and  naked  way,  the  teacher  calls  the 
imagination  of  the  children  to  her  aid,  and  administers  her 
admonition  and  reproof  indirectly,  through  the  dolls.  She 
takes  the  dolls  in  her  hand,  asks  their  names,  and  inquires 
which  of  the  two  girls  is  the  mother  of  each.  The  dolls' 
names  arc  Bella  and  Araminta,  and  the  mothers'  are  Lucy 
and  Mary. 

"  But  I  might  have  asked  Araminta  herself,"  she  adds ; 
and,  so  saying,  she  holds  the  doll  before  her,  and  enters  into 
a  long  imaginary  conversation  with  her,  more  or  less  spirit 
ed  and  original,  according  to  the  talent  and  ingenuity  of 
the  young  lady,  but,  in  any  conceivable  case,  enough  so  to 
completely  absorb  the  attention  of  the  children  and  fully  to 
occupy  their  minds.  She  asks  each  of  them  her  name,  and 
inquires  of  each  which  of  the  girls  is  her  mother,  and  makes 
first  one  of  them,  and  then  the  other,  point  to  her  mother 
in  giving  her  answer.  By  this  time  the  illusion  is  com 
pletely  established  in  the  children's  minds  of  regarding 
their  dolls  as  living  beings,  responsible  to  mothers  for  their 
conduct  and  behavior;  and  the  young  lady  can  go  on  and 
give  her  admonitions  and  instructions  in  respect  to  the  sin 
and  folly  of  quarrelling  to  them  —  the  children  listening. 
And  it  will  be  found  that  by  this  management  the  impres 
sion  upon  the  minds  of  the  children  will  be  far  greater  and 
more  effective  than  if  the  counsels  were  addressed  directly 


210  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

to  them ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  though  they  may  even 
take  the  form  of  very  severe  reproof,  they  will  produce  no 
sullcnness  or  vexation  in  the  minds  of  those  for  whom 
they  are  really  intended.  Indeed,  the  very  reason  why  the 
admonition  thus  given  will  be  so  much  more  effective  is 
the  fact  that  it  does  not  tend  in  any  degree  to  awaken  re 
sentment  and  vexation,  but  associates  the  lesson  which  the 
teacher  wishes  to  convey  with  amusement  and  pleasure. 

"You  are  very  pretty" — she  says,  we  will  suppose,  ad 
dressing  the  dolls — "and  you  look  very  amiable.  I  sup 
pose  you  are  very  amiable." 

Then,  turning  to  the  children,  she  asks,  in  a  confidential 
undertone,  "Do  they  ever  get  into  disputes  and  quarrels ?" 

"/Sometime*"  says  one  of  the  children,  entering  at  once 
into  the  idea  of  the  teacher. 

"Ah!"  the  teacher  exclaims,  turning  again  to  the  dolls. 
"  I  hear  that  you  dispute  and  quarrel  sometimes,  and  I  am 
very  sorry  for  it.  That  is  very  foolish.  It  is  only  silly  lit 
tle  children  that  we  expect  will  dispute  and  quarrel.  I 
should  not  have  supposed  it  possible  in  the  case  of  such 
young  ladies  as  you.  It  is  a  great  deal  better  to  be  yield 
ing  and  kind.  If  one  of  you  says  something  that  the  other 
thinks  is  not  true,  let  it  pass  without  contradiction ;  it  is 
foolish  to  dispute  about  it.  And  so  if  one  has  any  thing 
that  the  other  wants,  it  is  generally  much  better  to  wait 
for  it  than  to  quarrel.  It  is  hateful  to  quarrel.  Besides,  it 
spoils  your  beauty.  When  children  are  quarrelling  they 
look  like  little  furies." 

The  teacher  may  go  on  in  this  way,  and  give  a  long  mor 
al  lecture  to  the  dolls  in  a  tone  of  mock  gravity,  and  the 
children  will  listen  to  it  with  the  most  profound  attention ; 
and  it  will  have  a  far  greater  influence  upon  them  than  the 
same  admonitions  addressed  directly  to  them. 

So  effectually,  in  fact,  will  this  element  of  play  in  the 


T11K  IMAGINATION  IN  CHILDREN.  ^11 

transaction  open  their  hearts  to  the  reception  of  good  coun 
sel,  that  even  direct  admonitions  to  them  will  be  admitted 
with  it,  if  the  same  guise  is  maintained;  for  the  teacher 
may  add,  in  conclusion,  addressing  now  the  children  them 
selves  with  the  same  mock  solemnity : 

"  That  is  a  very  bad  fault  of  your  children — very  bad,  in 
deed.  And  it  is  one  that  you  will  find  very  hard  to  cor 
rect.  You  must  give  them  a  great  deal  of  good  counsel  on 
the  subject,  and,  above  all,  you  must  be  careful  to  set  them 
a  good  example  yourselves.  Children  always  imitate  what 
they  see  in  their  mothers,  whether  it  is  good  or  bad.  If 
you  are  always  amiable  and  kind  to  one  another,  they  will 
be  so  too." 

The  thoughtful  mother,  in  following  out  the  suggestions 
here  given,  wrill  see  at  once  how  the  interest  which  the  chil 
dren  take  in  their  dolls,  and  the  sense  of  reality  which  they 
feel  in  respect  to  all  their  dealings  with  them,  opens  before 
her  a  boundless  field  in  respect  to  modes  of  reaching  and 
influencing  their  minds  and  hearts. 

Tfie  Ball  itself  made  to  teach  Carefulness. 
There  is  literally  no  end  to  the  modes  by  which  persons 
having  the  charge  of  young  children  can  avail  themselves 
of  their  vivid  imaginative  powers  in  inculcating  moral  les 
sons  or  influencing  their  conduct.  A  boy,  we  will  suppose, 
has  a  new  ball.  Just  as  he  is  going  out  to  play  with  it  his 
father  takes  it  from  him  to  examine  it,  and,  after  turning  it 
round  and  looking  at  it  attentively  on  every  side,  holds  it 
up  to  his  ear.  The  boy  asks  what  his  father  is  doing.  "  I 
am  listening  to  hear  what  he  says."  "And  what  does  he 
say,  father  ?"  "  He  says  that  you  won't  have  him  to  play 
with  long."  "Why  not?"  "I  will  ask  him,  why  not?" 
(holding  the  ball  again  to  his  ear).  "  What  does  he  say, 
father  ?"  "  He  says  he  is  going  to  run  awn y  from  you  and 


212  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

hide.  Ho  says  you  will  go  to  play  near  some  building,  and 
he  means,  when  you  throw  him  or  knock  him,  to  fly  against 
the  windows  and  break  the  glass,  arid  then  people  will  take 
your  ball  away  from  you."  "  But  I  won't  play  near  any 
windows."  "  lie  says,  at  any  rate  you  will  play  near  some 
building,  and  when  you  knock  him  he  means  to  fly  up  to 
the  roof  and  get  behind  a  chimney,  or  roll  down  into  the 
gutter  where  you  can't  get  him."  "  But,  father,  I  am  not 
going  to  play  near  any  building  at  all."  "  Then  you  will 
play  in  some  place  where  there  are  holes  in  the  ground,  or 
thickets  of  bushes  near,  where  he  can  hide."  "  No,  father, 
I  mean  to  look  well  over  the  ground,  and  not  play  in  any 
place  where  there  is  any  danger  at  all."  "  Well,  we  shall 
see;  but  the  little  rogue  is  determined  to  hide  somewhere." 
The  boy  takes  his  ball  and  goes  out  to  play  with  it,  far 
more  effectually  cautioned  than  he  could  have  been  by  any 
direct  admonition. 

The  Teacher  and  the  Tough  Logs. 

A  teacher  who  was  engaged  in  a  district  school  in  the 
country,  where  the  arrangement  was  for  the  older  boys  to 
saw  and  split  the  wood  for  the  lire,  on  coming  one  day,  at 
the  recess,  to  see  how  the  work  wras  going  on,  found  that 
the  boys  had  laid  one  rather  hard-looking  log  aside.  They 
could  not  split  that  log,  they  said. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  teacher,  looking  at  the  log,  "  I  don't  won 
der.  I  know  that  log.  I  saw  him  before.  His  name  is  Old 
Gnarly.  He  says  he  has  no  idea  of  coming  open  for  a  par 
cel  of  boys,  even  if  they  have  got  beetle  and  wedges.  It 
takes  a  man,  he  says,  to  split  him." 

The  boys  stood  looking  at  the  log  with  a  very  grave  ex 
pression  of  countenance  as  they  heard  these  words. 

"  Is  that  what  he  says  ?"  asked  one  of  them.  "  Let's  try 
him  again,  Joe." 


THE  IMAGINATION  IN  CHILDREN.  £13 

"It  will  do  no  good,"  said  the  teacher,  "for  he  won't 
come  open,  if  he  can  possibly  help  it.  And  there's  anoth 
er  fellow  (pointing).  His  name  is  Slivertwist.  If  you  get 
a  crack  in  him,  you  will  find  him  full  of  twisted  splinters 
that  he  holds  himself  together  with.  The  only  way  is  to 
cut  them  through  with  a  sharp  axe.  But  he  holds  on  so 
tight  with  them  that  I  don't  believe  you  can  get  him  open. 
He  says  he  never  gives  up  to  boys." 

So  saying,  the  teacher  went  away.  It  is  scarcely  neces 
sary  to  say  to  any  one  who  knows  boys  that  the  teacher 
was  called  out  not  long  afterwards  to  see  that  Old  Gnarly 
and  Old  Slivertwist  were  both  split  up  fine  —  the  boys 
standing  around  the  heaps  of  well-prepared  fire-wood  which 
they  had  afforded,  and  regarding  them  with  an  air  of  exul 
tation  and  triumph. 

Muscles  rcinvigorated  through  the  Action  of  the  Mind. 

An  older  sister  has  been  taking  a  walk,  with  little  John 
ny,  four  years  old,  as  her  companion.  On  their  return, 
when  within  half  a  mile  of  home,  Johnny,  tired  of  gathering 
flowers  and  chasing  butterflies,  comes  to  his  sister,  with  a 
fatigued  and  languid  air,  and  says  he  can  not  walk  any  far 
ther,  and  wants  to  be  carried. 

"I  can't  carry  you  very  well,"  she  says,  "but  I  will  tell 
you  what  we  will  do ;  we  will  stop  at  the  first  tavern  we 
come  to  and  rest.  Do  you  see  that  large  flat  stone  out 
there  at  the  turn  of  the  road?  That  is  the  tavern,  and  you 
shall  be  my  courier.  A  courier  is  a  man  that  goes  forward 
as  fast  as  he  can  on  his  horse,  and  tells  the  tavern-keeper 
that  the  traveller  is  coming,  and  orders  supper.  So  you 
may  gallop  on  as  fast  as  you  can  go,  and,  when  you  get  to 
the  tavern,  tell  the  tavern-keeper  that  the  princess  is  com 
ing — I  am  the  princess — and  that  he  must  get  ready  an  ex 
cellent  supper." 


Sll  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

The  boy  will  gallop  on  and  wait  at  the  stone.  When  his 
sister  arrives  she  may  sit  and  rest  with  him  a  moment,  en 
tertaining  him  by  imagining  conversations  with  the  inn 
keeper,  and  then  resume  their  walk. 

"Now,"  she  may  say,  "I  must  send  my  courier  to  the 
post-office  with  a  letter.  Do  you  see  that  fence  away  for 
ward  ?  That  fence  is  the  post-office.  We  will  play  that 
one  of  the  cracks  between  the  boards  is  the  letter-box. 
Take  this  letter  (handing  him  any  little  scrap  of  paper 
which  she  has  taken  from  her  pocket  and  folded  to  repre 
sent  a  letter)  and  put  it  in  the  letter-box,  and  speak  to  the 
postmaster  through  the  crack,  and  tell  him  to  send  the  let 
ter  as  soon  as  he  can." 

Under  such  management  as  this,  unless  the  child's  ex 
haustion  is  very  great,  his  sense  of  it  will  disappear,  and  he 
will  accomplish  the  walk  not  only  without  any  more  com 
plaining,  but  with  a  great  feeling  of  pleasure.  The  nature 
of  the  action  in  such  a  case  seems  to  be  that  the  vital  force, 
when,  in  its  direct  and  ordinary  passage  to  the  muscles 
through  the  nerves,  it  has  exhausted  the  resources  of  that 
mode  of  transmission,  receives  in  some  mysterious  way  a 
reinforcement  to  its  strength  in  passing  round,  by  a  new 
channel,  through  the  organs  of  intelligence  and  imagina 
tion. 

These  trivial  instances  are  only  given  as  examples  to 
show  how  infinitely  varied  are  the  applications  which  may 
be  made  of  this  principle  of  appealing  to  the  imagination 
of  children,  and  what  a  variety  of  effects  may  be  produced 
through  its  instrumentality  by  a  parent  or  teacher  who 
once  takes  pains  to  make  himself  possessed  of  it.  But  each 
one  must  make  himself  possessed  of  it  by  his  own  practice 
and  experience.  No  general  instructions  can  do  any  thing 
more  than  to  offer  the  suggestion,  and  to  show  how  a  be 
ginning  is  to  be  made. 


TttUTU  AND  FALSEHOOD.  215 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

TRUTH  AND  FALSEHOOD. 

THE  duty  of  telling  the  truth  seems  to  us,  until  we  havo 
devoted  special  consideration  to  the  subject,  the  most  sim 
ple  thing  in  the  world,  both  to  understand  and  to  perform ; 
and  when  we  find  young  children  disregarding  it  we  are 
surprised  and  shocked,  and  often  imagine  that  it  indicates 
something  peculiar  and  abnormal  in  the  moral  sense  of  the 
offender.  A  little  reflection,  however,  will  show  us  how 
very  different  the  state  of  the  case  really  is.  "What  do  we 
mean  by  the  obligation  resting  upon  us  to  tell  the  truth? 
It  is  simply,  in  general  terms,  that  it  is  our  duty  to  make 
our  statements  correspond  with  the  realities  which  they 
purport  to  express.  This  is,  no  doubt,  our  duty,  as  a  gen 
eral  rule,  but  there  arc  so  many  exceptions  to  this  rule,  and 
the  principles  on  which  the  admissibility  of  the  exceptions 
depend  are  so  complicated  and  so  abstruse,  that  it  is  won 
derful  that  children  learn  to  make  the  necessary  distinc 
tions  as  soon  as  they  do. 

JVo  Natural  Guidance  to  the  Duty  of  telling  the  Truth. 

The  child,  when  lie  first  acquires  the  art  of  using  and 
understanding  language,  is  filled  with  wonder  and  pleas 
ure  to  find  that  he  can  represent  external  objects  that  he 
observes,  and  also  ideas  passing  through  his  mind,  by 
means  of  sounds  formed  by  his  organs  of  speech.  Such 
sounds,  he  finds,  have  both  these  powers — that  is,  they  can 
represent  realities  or  fancies.  Thus,  when  he  utters  the 
sounds  I  see  a  bird,  they  may  denote  either  a  mere  concep- 


210  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

tion  in  his  mind,  or  an  outward  actuality.  How  is  he  pos 
sibly  to  know,  by  any  instinct,  or  intuition,  or  moral  sense, 
when  it  is  right  for  him  to  use  them  as  representations  of 
a  mere  idea,  and  when  it  is  wrong  for  him  to  use  them,  un 
less  they  correspond  with  some  actual  reality'? 

The  fact  that  vivid  images  or  conceptions  may  be  awaken 
ed  in  his  mind  by  the  mere  hearing  of  certain  sounds  made 
by  himself  or  another  is  something  strange  and  wonderful 
to  him  ;  and  though  he  comes  to  his  consciousness  of  this 
susceptibility  by  degrees,  it  is  still,  while  he  is  acquiring  it, 
and  extending  the  scope  and  range  of  it,  a  source  of  contin 
ual  pleasure  to  him.  The  necessity  of  any  correspondence 
of  these  words,  and  of  the  images  which  they  excite,  with 
actual  realities,  is  a  necessity  which  arises  from  the  rela 
tions  of  man  to  man  in  the  social  state,  and  he  has  no 
means  whatever  of  knowing  any  thing  about  it  except  by 
instruction. 

There  is  not  only  no  ground  for  expecting  that  children 
should  perceive  any  such  necessity  either  by  any  kind  of 
instinct,  or  intuition,  or  embryo  moral  sense,  or  by  any  rea 
soning  process  of  which  his  incipient  powers  are  capable ; 
but  even  if  he  should  by  either  of  these  means  be  inclined 
to  entertain  such  an  idea,  his  mind  would  soon  be  utterly 
confused  in  regard  to  it  by  what  he  observes  constantly 
taking  place  around  him  in  respect  to  the  use  of  language 
by  others  wrhose  conduct,  much  more  than  their  precepts, 
he  is  accustomed  to  follow  as  his  guide. 

A  very  nice  Distinction. 

A  mother,  for  example,  takes  her  little  son,  four  or  five 
years  old,  into  her  lap  to  amuse  him  with  a  story.  She  be 
gins: 

"When  I  was  a  little  boy  I  lived  by  myself.  All  the 
bread  and  cheese  I  got  I  laid  upon  the  shelf,"  and  so  on  to 


TRUTH  AND  FALSEHOOD.  217 

the  end.  The  mother's  object  is  .accomplished.  The  boy 
is  amused.  He  is  greatly  interested  and  pleased  by  the 
wonderful  phenomenon  taking  place  within  him  of  curious 
images  awakened  in  his  mind  by  means  of  sounds  entering 
his  ear — images  of  a  little  boy  living  alone,  of  his  reaching 
up  to  put  bread  and  cheese  upon  a  shelf,  and  finally  of  his 
attempting  to  wheel  a  little  wife  home — the  story  ending 
with  the  breaking  and  downfall  of  the  wheelbarrow,  wife 
and  all.  He  does  not  reflect  philosophically  upon  the  sub 
ject,  but  the  principal  element  of  the  pleasure  afforded  him 
is  the  wonderful  phenomenon  of  the  formation  of  such  viv 
id  and  strange  images  in  his  mind  by  means  of  the  mere 
sound  of  his  mother's  voice. 

He  knows  at  once,  if  any  half-formed  reflections  arise  in 
his  mind  at  all,  that  what  his  mother  has  told  him  is  not 
true — that  is,  that  the  words  and  images  which  they  awaken 
in  his  mind  had  no  actual  realities  corresponding  with  them. 
He  knows,  in  the  first  place,  that  his  mother  never  was  a  boy, 
and  does  not  suppose  that  she  ever  lived  by  herself,  and  laid 
up  her  bread  and  cheese  upon  a  shelf.  The  whole  story,  ho 
understands,  if  he  exercises  any  thought  about  it  whatever 
— wheelbarrow  catastrophe  and  all — consists  only  of  words 
which  his  mother  speaks  to  him  to  give  him  pleasure. 

By-and-by  his  mother  gives  him  a  piece  of  cake,  and  he 
goes  out  into  the  garden  to  play.  His  sister  is  there  and 
asks  him  to  give  her  a  piece  of  his  cake.  He  hesitates.  He 
thinks  of  the  request  long  enough  to  form  a  distinct  image 
in  his  mind  of  giving  her  half  of  it,  but  finally  concludes 
not  to  do  so,  and  eats  it  all  himself. 

When  at  length  he  comes  in,  his  mother  accidentally  asks 
him  some  question  about  the  cake,  and  he  says  he  gave  half 
of  it  to  his  sister.  His  mother  seems  much  pleased.  He 
knew  that  she  would  be  pleased.  He  said  it,  in  fact,  on 
purpose  to  please  her.  The  words  represented  no  actual 

K 


1318  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

reality,  but  only  a  thought  passing  through  his  mind,  and 
he  spoke,  in  a  certain  sense,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  his 
mother  pleasure.  The  case  corresponds  in  all  these  partic 
ulars  with  that  of  his  mother's  statement  in  respect  to  her 
being  once  a  little  boy  and  living  by  herself.  Those  words 
were  spoken  by  her  to  give  him  pleasure,  and  he  said  what 
he  did  to  give  her  pleasure.  To  give  her  pleasure !  the 
reader  will  perhaps  say,  with  some  surprise,  thinking  that 
to  assign  such  a  motive  as  that  is  not,  by  any  means,  put 
ting  a  fair  and  proper  construction  upon  the  boy's  act. 
His  design  was,  it  will  be  said,  to  shield  himself  from  cen 
sure,  or  to  procure  undeserved  praise.  And  it  is,  no  doubt, 
true  that,  on  a  nice  analysis  of  the  motives  of  the  act,  such 
as  we,  in  our  maturity,  can  easily  make,  we  shall  find  that 
design  obscurely  mingled  with  them.  But  the  child  does 
not  analyze.  He  can  not.  He  does  not  look  forward  to 
ultimate  ends,  or  look  for  the  hidden  springs  that  lie  con 
cealed  among  the  complicated  combinations  of  impulses 
which  animate  him.  In  the  case  that  we  are  supposing,  all 
that  we  can  reasonably  believe  to  be  present  to  his  mind  is 
a  kind  of  instinctive  feeling  that  for  him  to  say  that  he  ate 
the  cake  all  himself  would  bring  a  frown,  or  at  least  a  look 
of  pain  and  distress,  to  his  mother's  face,  and  perhaps  words 
of  displeasure  for  him;  while,  if  he  says  that  he  gave  half  to 
his  sister,  she  will  look  pleased  and  happy.  This  is  as  far 
as  he  sees.  And  he  may  be  of  such  an  age,  and  his  mental 
organs  may  be  in  so  embryonic  a  condition,  that  it  is  as  far 
as  he  ought  to  be  expected  to  look ;  so  that,  as  the  case  pre 
sents  itself  to  his  mind  in  respect  to  the  impulse  which  at 
the  moment  prompts  him  to  act,  he  said  what  he  did  from 
a  desire  to  give  his  mother  pleasure,  and  not  pain.  As  to 
the  secret  motive,  which  might  have  been  his  ultimate  end, 
ihat  lay  too  deeply  concealed  for  him  to  be  conscious  of  it. 
And  we  ourselves  too  often  act  from  the  influence  of  hid- 


TRUTH  AND  FALSEHOOD.  219 

den  impulses  of  selfishness,  the  existence  of  which  we  are 
wholly  unconscious  of,  to  judge  him  too  harshly  for  his 
blindness. 

At  length,  by-aud-by,  when  his  sister  conies  in,  and  the 
untruth  is  discovered,  the  boy  is  astonished  and  bewildered 
by  being  called  to  account  in  a  very  solemn  manner  by  his 
mother  on  account  of  the  awful  wickedness  of  having  told 
a  lie! 

How  the  Child  sees  it. 

Now  I  am  very  ready  to  admit  that,  notwithstanding  the 
apparent  resemblance  between  these  two  cases,  this  resem 
blance  is  only  apparent  and  superficial ;  but  the  question  is, 
whether  it  is  not  sufficient  to  cause  such  a  child  to  con 
found  them,  and  to  be  excusable,  until  he  has  been  enlight 
ened  by  appropriate  instruction,  for  not  clearly  distinguish 
ing  the  cases  where  words  must  be  held  strictly  to  conform 
to  actual  realities,  from  those  where  it  is  perfectly  right  and 
proper  that  they  should  only  represent  images  or  concep 
tions  of  the  mind. 

A  father,  playing  with  his  children,  says, "  Now  I  am  a 
bear,  and  am  going  to  growl."  So  he  growls.  Then  he 
says,  "  Now  I  am  a  dog,  and  am  going  to  bark."  He  is  not 
a  bear,  and  he  is  not  a  dog,  and  the  children  know  it.  His 
words,  therefore,  even  to  the  apprehension  of  the  children, 
express  an  untruth,  in  the  sense  that  they  do  not  corre 
spond  with  any  actual  reality.  It  is  not  a  wrongful  untruth. 
The  children  understand  perfectly  well  that  in  such  a  case 
as  this  it  is  not  in  any  sense  wrong  to  say  what  is  not  true. 
But  how  are  they  to  knowr  what  kind  of  untruths  are  right, 
and  what  kind  arc  wrong,  until  they  are  taught  what  the 
distinction  is  and  upon  what  it  depends. 

Unfortunately  many  parents  confuse  the  ideas,  or  rather 
the  moral  sense  of  their  children,  in  a  much  more  vital 


2::u  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

manner  by  untruths  of  a  different  kind  from  this — as,  for 
example,  when  a  mother,  in  the  presence  of  her  children, 
expresses  a  feeling  of  vexation  and  annoyance  at  seeing 
a  certain  visitor  coining  to  make  a  call,  and  then,  when  the 
visitor  enters  the  room,  receives  her  with  pretended  pleas 
ure,  and  says,  out  of  politeness,  that  she  is  very  glad  to  see 
her.  Sometimes  a  father  will  join  with  his  children,  when 
peculiar  circumstances  seem,  as  he  thinks,  to  require  it,  in 
concealing  something  from  their  mother,  or  deceiving  her 
in  regard  to  it  by  misrepresentations  or  positive  untruths. 
Sometimes  even  the  mother  will  do  this  in  reference  to  the 
father.  Of  course  such  management  as  this  must  necessa 
rily  have  the  effect  of  bringing  up  the  children  to  the  idea 
that  deceiving  by  untruths  is  a  justifiable  resort  in  certain 
cases — a  doctrine  which,  though  entertained  by  many  well- 
meaning  persons,  strikes  a  fatal  blow  at  all  confidence  in 
the  veracity  of  men  ;  for  whenever  we  know  of  any  persons 
that  they  entertain  this  idea,  it  is  never  afterwards  safe  to 
trust  in  what  they  say,  since  we  never  can  know  that  the 
case  in  hand  is  not,  for  some  reason  unknown  to  us,  one  of 
those  which  justify  a  resort  to  falsehood. 

But  to  return  to  the  case  of  the  children  that  are  under 
the  training  of  parents  who  will  not  themselves,  under  any 
circumstances,  falsify  their  word — that  is,  will  never  utter 
words  that  do  not  represent  actual  reality  in  any  of  the 
wrongful  ways.  Such  children  can  not  be  expected  to 
know  of  themselves,  or  to  learn  without  instruction,  what 
the  wrongful  ways  are,  and  they  never  do  learn  until  they 
have  made  many  failures.  Many,  it  is  true,  learn  when 
they  are  very  young.  Many  evince  a  remarkable  tender 
ness  of  conscience  in  respect  to  this  as  well  as  to  all  their 
other  duties,  so  fast  as  they  are  taught  them.  And  some 
become  so  faithful  and  scrupulous  in  respect  to  truth,  at  so 
early  an  age,  that  their  parents  quite  forget  the  progressive 


TRUTH  AND  FALSEHOOD.  221 

steps  by  which  they  advanced  at  the  beginning.  We  find 
many  a  mother  who  will  say  of  her  boy  that  he  never  told 
an  untruth,  but  we  do  not  find  any  man  who  will  say  of 
himself,  that  when  he  was  a  boy  he  never  told  one. 

Imaginings  and  Rememberings  easily  mistaken  for  each 

other. 

But  besides  the  complicated  character  of  the  general  sub 
ject,  as  it  presents  itself  to  the  minds  of  children — that  is, 
the  intricacy  to  them  of  the  question  when  there  must  be  a 
strict  correspondence  between  the  words  spoken  and  an 
actual  reality,  and  when  they  may  rightly  represent  mere 
images  or  fancies  of  the  mind — there  is  another  great  diffi 
culty  in  their  way,  one  that  is  very  little  considered  and 
often,  indeed,  not  at  all  understood  by  parents — and  that  is, 
that  in  the  earliest  years  the  distinction  between  realities 
and  mere  fancies  of  the  mind  is  very  indistinctly  drawn. 
Even  in  our  minds  the  two  things  are  often  confounded. 
We  often  have  to  pause  and  think  in  order  to  decide 
whether  a  mental  perception  of  which  we  are  conscious  is 
a  remembrance  of  a  reality,  or  a  revival  of  some  image 
formed  at  some  previous  time,  perhaps  remote,  by  a  vivid 
description  which  we  have  read  or  heard,  or  even  by  our 
own  fancy.  "Is  that  really  so,  or  did  I  dream  it?"  How 
often  is  such  a  question  heard.  And  persons  have  been 
known  to  certify  honestly,  in  courts  of  justice,  to  facts 
which  they  think  they  personally  witnessed,  but  which 
were  really  pictured  in  their  minds  in  other  ways.  The 
picture  was  so  distinct  and  vivid  that  they  lost,  in  time,  the 
power  of  distinguishing  it  from  other  and,  perhaps,  similar 
pictures  which  had  been  made  by  their  witnessing  the  cor 
responding  realities. 

Indeed,  instead  of  being  surprised  that  these  different 
origins  of  present  mental  images  are  sometimes  confound- 


2X  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

ed,  it  is  actually  wonderful  that  they  can  generally  be  BO 
clearly  distinguished ;  and  we  can  not  explain,  even  to  our 
selves,  what  the  difference  is  by  which  we  do  distinguish 
them. 

For  example,  we  can  call  up  to  our  minds  the  picture 
of  a  house  burning  and  a  fireman  going  up  by  a  ladder  to 
rescue  some  person  appearing  at  the  window.  Now  the 
image,  in  such  a  case,  may  have  had  several  different  modes 
of  origin.  1.  We  may  have  actually  witnessed  such  a  scene 
the  evening  before.  2.  Some  one  may  have  given  us  a  viv 
id  description  of  it.  3.  We  may  have  fancied  it  in  writing 
a  tale,  and  4.  We  may  have  dreamed  it.  Here  arc  four 
different  prototypes  of  a  picture  which  is  now  renewed,  and 
there  is  something  in  the  present  copy  which  enables  us,  in 
most  cases,  to  determine  at  once  what  the  real  prototype 
was.  That  is,  there  is  something  in  the  picture  which  now 
arises  in  our  mind  as  a  renewal  or  repetition  of  the  picture 
made  the  day  before,  which  makes  us  immediately  cogni 
zant  of  the  cause  of  the  original  picture — that  is,  whether 
it  came  from  a  reality  that  we  witnessed,  or  from  a  verbal 
or  written  description  by  another  person,  or  whether  it  was 
a  fanciful  creation  of  our  own  mind  while  awake,  or  a 
dream.  And  it  is  extremely  difficult  for  us  to  discover  pre 
cisely  what  it  is,  in  the  present  mental  picture,  which  gives 
us  this  information  in  respect  to  the  origin  of  its  prototype. 
It  is  very  easy  to  say,  "  Oh,  we  remember"  But  remember 
is  only  a  word.  We  can  only  mean  by  it,  in  such  a  case  as 
this,  that  there  is  some  latent  difference  between  the  several 
images  made  upon  our  minds  to-day  of  things  seen,  heard 
of,  fancied,  or  dreamed  yesterday,  by  which  we  distinguish 
each  from  all  the  others.  But  the  most  acute  metaphysi 
cians — men  who  are  accustomed  to  the  closest  scrutiny  of 
the  movements  and  the  mode  of  action  of  their  minds — 
find  it  very  difficult  to  discover  what  this  difference  is. 


TRUTH  AND  FALSEHOOD.  233 

The  Result  in  the  Case  of  Children. 

Now,  in  the  case  of  young  children,  the  faculties  of  per 
ception  and  consciousness  and  the  power  of  recognizing  the 
distinguishing  characteristics  of  the  different  perceptions 
and  sensations  of  their  minds  are  all  immature,  and  distinc 
tions  which  even  to  mature  minds  arc  not  so  clear  but  that 
they  are  often  confounded,  for  them  form  a  bewildering 
maze.  Their  rninds  are  occupied  with  a  mingled  and 
blended  though  beautiful  combination  of  sensations,  con 
ceptions,  fancies,  and  remembrances,  which  they  do  not  at 
tempt  to  separate  from  each  other,  and  their  vocal  organs 
are  animated  by  a  constant  impulse  to  exercise  themselves 
with  any  utterances  which  the  incessant  and  playful  gam- 
boilings  of  their  faculties  frame.  In  other  words,  the  vital 
force  liberated  by  the  digestion  of  the  food  seeks  an  issue 
now  in  this  way  and  now  in  that,  through  every  variety  of 
mental  and  bodily  action.  Of  course,  to  arrange  and  sys 
tematize  these  actions,  to  establish  the  true  relations  be 
tween  all  these  various  faculties  and  powers,  and  to  regu 
late  the  obligations  and  duties  by  which  the  exercise  of 
them  should  be  limited  and  controlled,  is  a  work  of  time, 
and  is  to  be  effected,  not  by  the  operation  of  any  instinct 
or  early  intuition,  but  by  a  course  of  development — effected 
mainly  by  the  progress  of  growth  and  experience,  though  it 
is  to  be  aided  and  guide;!  by  assiduous  but  gentle  training 
and  instruction. 

If  these  views  are  correct,  we  can  safely  draw  from  them 
the  following  conclusions. 

Practical  Conclusions. 

1.  We  must  not  expect  from  children  that  they  will  from 
the  beginning  understand  and  feel  the  obligation  to  speak 
the  truth,  any  more  than  we  look  for  a  recognition,  on  thei" 


t»4  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

part,  of  the  various  other  principles  of  duty  which  arise 
from  the  relations  of  man  to  man  in  the  social  stajte.  We 
do  not  expect  that  two  babies  creeping  upon  the  floor  to 
wards  the  same  plaything  should  each  feel  instinctively 
impelled  to  grant  the  other  the  use  of  it  half  of  the  time. 
Children  must  be  taught  to  tell  the  truth,  just  as  they  must 
be  taught  the  principles  of  justice  and  equal  rights.  They 
generally  get  taught  by  experience — that  is,  by  the  rough 
treatment  and  hard  knocks  which  they  bring  upon  them 
selves  by  their  violation  of  these  principles.  But  the  faith 
ful  parent  can  aid  them  in  acquiring  the  necessary  knowl 
edge  in  a  far  easier  and  more  agreeable  manner  by  appro 
priate  instruction. 

2.  The  mother  must  not  be  distressed  or  too  much  trou 
bled  when  she  finds  that  her  children,  while  very  young? 
are  prone  to  fall  into  deviations  from  the  truth,  but  only  to 
be  made  to  feel  more  impressed  with  the  necessity  of  re 
newing  her  own  efforts  to  teach  them  the  duty,  and  to  train 
them  to  the  performance  of  it. 

3.  She  must  not  be  too  stern  or  severe  in  punishing  the 
deviations  from  truth  in  very  young  children,  or  in  express 
ing  the  displeasure  which  they  awaken  in  her  mind.     It  is 
instruction,  not  expressions  of  anger  or  vindictive  punish 
ment,  that  is  required  in  most  cases.     Explain   to  them 
the  evils  that  would  result  if  we  could  not  believe  what 
people  say,  and  tell  them  stories  of  truth-loving  children 
on  the  one  hand,  and  of  false  and  deceitful  children  on  the 
other.     And,  above  all,  notice,  with  indications  of  approval 
and  pleasure,  when  the  child  speaks  the  truth  under  circum 
stances  which  might  have  tempted  him  to  deviate  from  it. 
One  instance  of  this  kind,  in  which  you  show  that  you  ob 
serve  and  are  pleased  by  his  truthfulness,  will  do  more  to 
awaken  in  his  heart  a  genuine  love  for  the  truth  than  ten  re- 
provals,  or  even  punishments,  incurred  by  the  violation  of  it. 


TRUTH  AND  FALSEHOOD  '525 

And  in  the  same  spirit  we  must  make  use  of  the  religious 
considerations  which  are  appropriate  to  this  subject — that 
is,  we  must  encourage  the  child  with  the  approval  of  his 
heavenly  Father,  when  he  resists  the  temptation  to  deviate 
from  the  truth,  instead  of  frightening  him,  when  he  falls, 
by  terrible  denunciations  of  the  anger  of  God  against  liars; 
denunciations  which,  however  well-deserved  in  the  cases  to 
which  they  are  intended  to  apply,  are  riot  designed  for  chil 
dren  in  whose  minds  the  necessary  discriminations,  as  point 
ed  out  in  this  chapter,  are  yet  scarcely  formed. 

Danger  of  confounding  Deceitfulness  and  Falsehood. 

4.  Do  not  confound  the  criminality  of  deceitfulness  by 
acts  with  falsehood  by  words,  by  telling  the  child,  when  he 
resorts  to  any  artifice  or  deception  in  order  to  gain  his 
ends,  that  it  is  as  bad  to  deceive  as  to  lie.  It  is  not  as 
bad,  by  any  means.  There  is  a  marked  line  of  distinction 
to  be  drawn  between  falsifying  one's  word  and  all  other 
forms  of  deception,  for  there  is  such  a  sacredness  in  the 
spoken  word,  that  the  violation  of  it  is  in  general  far  more 
reprehensible  than  the  attempt  to  accomplish  the  same 
end  by  mere  action.  If  a  man  has  lost  a  leg,  it  may  be 
perfectly  right  for  him  to  wear  a  wooden  one  which  is  so 
perfectly  made  as  to  deceive  people — and  even  to  wear  it, 
too,  with  the  intent  to  deceive  people  by  leading  them  to 
suppose  that  both  his  legs  are  genuine — while  it  would  be 
wrong  for  him  to  assert  in  words  that  this  limb  was  not  an 
artificial  one.  It  is  right  to  put  a  chalk  egg  in  a  hen's  nest 
to  deceive  the  hen,  when,  if  the  hen  could  understand  lan 
guage,  and  if  we  were  to  suppose  hens  "  to  have  any  rights 
that  we  are  bound  to  respect,"  it  would  be  wrong  to  tell 
her  that  it  was  a  real  egg.  It  would  be  right  for  a  person, 
when  his  house  wras  entered  by  a  robber  at  night,  to  point 
an  empty  gun  at  the  robber  to  frighten  him  away  by  lead- 

K2 


220  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

ing  him  to  think  that  the  gun  was  loaded ;  but  it  would  be 
wrong,  as  I  think — though  I  am  aware  that  many  persons 
would  think  differently — for  him  to  say  in  words  that  the 
gun  was  loaded,  and  that  lie  would  fire  unless  the  robber 
went  away.  These  cases  show  that  there  is  a  great  differ 
ence  between  deceiving  by  false  appearances,  which  is 
sometimes  right,  and  doing  it  by  false  statements,  which,  as 
I  think,  is  always  wrong.  There  is  a  special  and  inviolable 
sacredness,  which  every  lover  of  the  truth  should  attach  to 
his  spoken  word. 

5.  We  must  not  allow  the  leniency  with  which,  according 
to  the  views  here  presented,  we  are  to  regard  the  violations 
of  truth  by  young  persons,  wThile  their  mental  faculties  and 
their  powers  of  discrimination  are  yet  imperfectly  developed, 
to  lead  us  to  lower  the  standard  of  right  in  their  minds,  so 
as  to  allow  them  to  imbibe  the  idea  that  we  think  that 
falsehood  is,  after  all,  no  great  sin,  and  still  less,  to  suppose 
that  we  consider  it  sometimes,  in  extreme  cases,  allowable. 
We  may,  indeed,  say,  "The  truth  is  not  to  be  spoken  at  all 
times,"  but  to  make  the  aphorism  complete  we  must  add, 
that  falsehood  is  to  be  spoken  never.  There  is  no  other 
possible  ground  for  absolute  confidence  in  the  word  of  any 
man  except  the  conviction  that  his  principle  is,  that  it  is 
never,  under  any  circumstances,  or  to  accomplish  any  pur 
pose  whatever,  right  for  him  to  falsify  it. 

A  different  opinion,  I  am  aware,  prevails  very  extensively 
among  mankind,  and  especially  among  the  continental  na 
tions  of  Europe,  where  it  seems  to  be  very  generally  be 
lieved  that  in  those  cases  in  which  falsehood  will  on  the 
whole  be  conducive  of  greater  good  than  the  truth  it  is  al 
lowable  to  employ  it.  But  it  is  easy  to  see  that,  so  far  as 
we  know  that  those  around  us  hold  to  this  philosophy,  all 
reasonable  ground  for  confidence  in  their  statements  is 
taken  away;  for  we  never  can  know,  in  respect  to  any 


TRUTH  AND  FALSEHOOD.  227 

statement  which  they  make,  that  the  case  is  not  one  of 
those  in  which,  for  reasons  not  manifest  to  us,  they  think  it 
is  expedient — that  is,  conducive  in  some  way  to  good — to 
state  what  is  not  true. 

While,  therefore,  we  must  allow  children  a  reasonable 
time  to  bring  their  minds  to  a  full  sense  of  the  obligation 
of  making  their  words  always  conform  to  what  is  true,  in 
stead  of  shaping  them  so  as  best  to  attain  their  purposes 
for  the  time  being — which  is  the  course  to  which  their  ear 
liest  natural  instincts  prompt  them — and  must  deal  gently 
and  leniently  with  their  incipient  failures,  we  must  do  all 
in  our  power  to  bring  them  forward  as  fast  as  possible  to 
the  adoption  of  the  very  highest  standard  as  their  rule  of 
duty  in  this  respect ;  inculcating  it  upon  them,  by  example 
as  well  as  by  precept,  that  we  can  not  innocently,  under  any 
circumstances,  to  escape  any  evil,  or  to  gain  any  end,  falsify 
our  word.  For  there  is  no  evil  so  great,  and  no  end  to  be 
attained  so  valuable,  as  to  justify  the  adoption  of  a  princi- 
ciple  which  destroys  all  foundation  for  confidence  between 
man  and  man. 


GENTLE  MEASURES. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING. 

IT  is  a  very  unreasonable  thing  for  parents  to  expect 
young  children  to  be  reasonable.  Being  reasonable  in  one's 
conduct  or  wishes  implies  the  taking  into  account  of  those 
bearings  and  relations  of  an  act  which  are  more  remote  and 
less  obvious,  in  contradistinction  from  being  governed  ex 
clusively  by  those  which  are  immediate  and  near.  Now, 
it  is  not  reasonable  to  expect  children  to  be  influenced  by 
these  remote  considerations,  simply  because  in  them  the 
faculties  by  which  they  are  brought  forward  into  the  mind 
and  invested  with  the  attributes  of  reality  are  not  yet  de 
veloped.  These  faculties  are  all  in  a  nascent  or  formative 
state,  and  it  is  as  idle  to  expect  them,  while  thus  imma 
ture,  to  fulfill  their  functions  for  any  practical  purpose,  as 
it  would  be  to  expect  a  baby  to  expend  the  strength  of  its 
little  arms  in  performing  any  useful  labor. 

Progress  of  Mental  Development. 

The  mother  sometimes,  when  she  looks  upon  her  infant 
lying  in  her  arms,  and  observes  the  intentness  with  which 
he  seems  to  gaze  upon  objects  in  the  room — upon  the 
bright  light  of  the  window  or  of  the  lamp,  or  upon  the  pic 
tures  on  the  wall — wonders  what  he  is  thinking  of.  The 
truth  probably  is  that  he  is  not  thinking  at  all;  he  is  sim 
ply  seeing — that  is  to  say,  the  light  from  external  objects 
is  entering  his  eyes  and  producing  images  upon  his  senso- 
riurn,  and  that  is  all.  He  sees  only.  There  might  have 
been  a  similar  image  of  the  light  in  his  mind  the  day  be- 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING.  :^'.) 

fore,  but  the  reproduction  of  the  former  image  which  con 
stitutes  memory  does  not  probably  take  place  at  all  in  his 
case  if  he  is  very  young,  so  that  there  is  not  present  to  his 
mind,  in  connection  with  the  present  image,  any  reproduc 
tion  of  the  former  one.  Still  less  does  he  make  any  mental 
comparison  between  the  two.  The  mother,  as  she  sees  the 
light  of  to-day,  may  remember  the  one  of  yesterday,  and 
mentally  compare  the  two;  may  have  many  thoughts  awak 
ened  in  her  mind  by  the  sensation  and  the  recollection — 
such  as,  this  is  from  a  new  kind  of  oil,  and  gives  a  brighter 
light  than  the  other ;  that  she  will  use  this  kind  of  oil  in  all 
her  lamps,  and  will  recommend  it  to  her  friends,  and  so  on 
indefinitely.  But  the  child  has  none  of  these  thoughts  and 
can  have  none ;  for  neither  have  the  faculties  been  devel 
oped  within  him  by  which  they  are  conceived,  nor  has  he 
had  the  experience  of  the  previous  sensations  to  form  the 
materials  for  framing  them.  He  is  conscious  of  the  pres 
ent  sensations,  and  that  is  all. 

As  he  advances,  however,  in  his  experience  of  sensations, 
and  as  his  mental  powers  gradually  begin  to  be  unfolded, 
what  may  be  called  thoughts  arise,  consisting  at  first,  proba 
bly,  of  recollections  of  past  sensations  entering  into  his  con 
sciousness  in  connection  with  the  present  ones.  These  com 
binations,  and  the  mental  acts  of  various  kinds  which  are 
excited  by  them,  multiply  as  he  advances  towards  maturi 
ty;  but  the  images  produced  by  present  realities  are  infi 
nitely  more  vivid  and  have  a  very  much  greater  power  over 
him  than  those  which  memory  brings  up  from  the  past,  or 
that  his  fancy  can  anticipate  in  the  future. 

This  state  of  things,  though  there  is,  of  course,  a  gradual 
advancement  in  the  relative  influence  of  what  the  mind  can 
conceive,  as  compared  with  that  which  the  senses  make 
real,  continues  substantially  the  same  through  all  the  period 
of  childhood  and  youth. 


230  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

In  other  words,  the  organs  of  sense  and  of  those  mental 
faculties  which  are  directly  occupied  with  the  sensations, 
are  the  earliest  to  be  developed,  as  we  might  naturally  sup 
pose  would  be  the  case;  and,  by  consequence,  the  sensible 
properties  of  objects  and  the  direct  and  immediate  effects 
of  any  action,  are  those  which  have  a  controlling  influence 
over  the  volitions  of  the  mind  during  all  the  earlier  periods 
of  its  development.  The  reason,  on  the  other  hand,  which, 
as  applied  to  the  practical  affairs  of  life,  has  for  its  func 
tion  the  bringing  in  of  the  more  remote  bearings  and  rela 
tions  of  a  fact,  or  the  indirect  and  less  obvious  results  of 
an  action,  is  very  slowly  developed.  It  is  precisely  on  this 
account  that  the  period  of  immaturity  in  the  human  species 
is  so  long  protracted  in  comparison  with  that  of  the  inferior 
animals.  The  lives  of  these  animals  are  regulated  by  the 
cognizance  simply  of  the  sensible  properties  of  objects,  and 
by  the  immediate  results  of  their  acts,  and  they  accordingly 
become  mature  as  soon  as  their  senses  and  their  bodily  or 
gans  are  brought  completely  into  action.  But  man,  who  is 
to  be  governed  by  his  reason — that  is,  by  much  more  far- 
reaching  and  comprehensive  views  of  what  concerns  him — 
requires  a  much  longer  period  to  fit  him  for  independent 
action,  since  he  must  wait  for  the  development  of  those 
higher  faculties  which  are  necessary  for  the  attainment  of 
these  extended  views;  and  during  this  period  he  must  de 
pend  upon  the  reason  of  his  parents  instead  of  being  gov 
erned  by  his  own. 

Practical  Effect  of  these  Truths. 

The  true  course,  then,  for  parents  to  pursue  is  not  to  ex 
pect  too  much  from  the  ability  of  their  children  to  see  what 
is  right  and  proper  for  them,  but  to  decide  all  important 
questions  themselves,  using  their  own  experience  and  their 
own  power  of  foresight  as  their  guide.  They  are,  indeed, 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING.  231 

to  cultivate  and  train  the  reasoning  and  reflective  powers 
of  their  children,  but  are  not  to  expect  them  in  early  life  to 
be  sufficiently  developed  and  strengthened  to  bear  any 
heavy  strain,  or  to  justify  the  placing  of  any  serious  reli 
ance  upon  them.  They  must,  in  a  word,  treat  the  reason 
and  the  judgment  of  their  children  as  the  farmer  treats  the 
strength  of  his  colt,  which  he  exercises  and,  to  a  certain  ex 
tent,  employs,  but  never  puts  upon  it  any  serious  burden. 

It  results  from  this  view  of  the  case  that  it  is  not  wise 
for  a  parent  to  resort  to  arguing  or  reasoning  with  a  child, 
as  a  substitute  for  authority,  or  even  as  an  aid  to  make  up 
for  a  deficiency  of  authority,  in  regard  to  what  it  is  neces 
sary  that  the  child  should  do.  No  doubt  it  is  a  good  plan 
sometimes  to  let  the  child  decide  for  himself,  but  when  you 
pretend  to  allow  him  to  decide  let  him  do  it  really.  When 
you  go  out  with  him  to  take  a  walk,  if  it  is  so  nearly  imma 
terial  which  way  you  go  that  you  are  willing  that  he  should 
determine  the  question,  then  lay  the  case  before  him,  giv 
ing  him  the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  the  different 
ways,  and  let  him  decide;  and  then  act  according  to  his 
decision.  But  if  you  have  determined  in  your  own  mind 
which  way  to  go,  simply  announce  your  determination ;  and 
if  you  give  reasons  at  all,  do  not  give  them  in  such  a  way 
as  to  convey  the  idea  to  his  mind  that  his  obligation  to 
submit  is  to  rest  partly  on  his  seeing  the  force  of  them. 
For  every  parent  will  find  that  this  principle  is  a  sound 
one  and  one  of  fundamental  importance  in  the  successful 
management  of  children — namely,  that  it  is  much  easier  for 
a  child  to  do  what  he  does  not  like  to  do  as  an  act  of  sim 
ple  submission  to  superior  authority,  than  for  him  to  bring 
himself  to  an  accordance  with  the  decision  by  hearing  and 
considering  the  reasons.  In  other  words,  it  is  much  easier 
for  him  to  obey  your  decision  than  to  bring  himself  to  the 
same  decision  against  his  own  will. 


232  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

In  serious  Cases  no  Reliance  to  be  placed  on  the  Reason 
of  the  Child.  . 

In  all  those  cases,  therefore,  in  which  the  parent  can  not 
safely  allow  the  children  really  to  decide,  such  as  the  ques 
tion  of  going  to  school,  going  to  church,  taking  medicine, 
remaining  in-doors  on  account  of  indisposition  or  of  the 
weather,  making  visits,  choice  of  playmates  and  compan 
ions,  and  a  great  many  others  which  it  would  not  be  safe 
actually  to  allow  them  to  decide,  it  is  true  kindness  to 
them  to  spare  their  minds  the  painful  perplexity  of  a  con 
flict.  Decide  for  them.  Do  not  say,  "  Oh,  I  would  not  do 
this  or  that " — whatever  it  may  be — "  because  " — and  then 
go  on  to  assign  reasons  thought  of  perhaps  at  the  moment 
to  meet  the  emergency,  and  indeed  generally  false ;  but, 
"Yes,  I  don't  wonder  that  you  would  like  to  do  it.  I 
should  like  it  if  I  were  you.  But  it  can  not  be  done." 
When  there  is  medicine  to  be  taken,  do  not  put  the  child 
in  misery  for  half  an  hour  while  you  resort  to  all  sorts  of 
arguments,  and  perhaps  artifices,  to  bring  him  to  a  willing 
ness  to  take  it ;  but  simply  present  it  to  him,  saying,  "  It  is 
something  very  disagreeable,  I  know,  but  it  must  be  taken ;" 
and  if  it  is  refused,  allow  of  no  delay,  but  at  once,  though 
without  any  appearance  of  displeasure,  and  in  the  gentlest 
manner  possible,  force  it  down.  Then,  after  the  excite 
ment  of  the  affair  has  passed  away,  and  you  have  your  lit 
tle  patient  in  your  lap,  and  he  is  in  good-humor — this  is 
all,  of  course,  on  the  supposition  that  he  is  not  very  sick — 
say  to  him,  "  You  would  not  take  your  medicine  a  little 
while  ago,  and  we  had  to  force  it  down:  I  hope  it  did  not 
hurt  you  much." 

The  child  will  probably  make  some  fretful  answer. 

"It  is  not  surprising  that  you  did  not  like  to  take  it. 
All  children,  while  they  are  too  young  to  be  reasonable,  and 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING.  235 

all  animals,  such  as  horses  and  cows,  when  they  are  sick, 
arc  very  unwilling  to  take  their  medicine,  and  we  often 
have  to  force  it  down.  You  will,  perhaps,  refuse  to  take 
yours  a  good  many  times  yet  before  you  are  old  enough  to 
see  that  it  is  a  great  deal  easier  to  take  it  willingly  than  it 
is  to  have  it  forced  down." 

And  then  go  on  and  tell  him  some  amusing  story  of  the 
difficulty  some  people  had  in  forcing  medicine  down  the 
throat  of  a  sick  horse,  who  did  not  know  enough  to  take  it 
like  a  man. 

The  idea  is — for  this  case  is  only  meant  as  an  illustra 
tion  of  a  general  principle — that  the  comfort  and  enjoy 
ment  of  children,  as  well  as  the  easy  and  successful  work 
ing  of  parental  government,  is  greatly  promoted  by  decid 
ing  for  the  children  at  once,  and  placing  their  action  on 
the  simple  ground  of  obedience  to  authority  in  all  those 
cases  where  the  decision  can  not  really  and  honestly  be 
left  to  the  children  themselves. 

To  listen  reluctantly  to  the  persistent  arguments  of  chil 
dren  in  favor  of  their  being  allowed  to  do  what  we  are 
sure  that  we  shall  decide  in  the  end  that  it  is  not  best  for 
them  to  do,  and  to  meet  them  with  counter  arguments 
which,  if  they  are  not  actually  false,  as  they  are  very  apt 
to  be  in  such  a  case,  are  utterly  powerless,  from  the  inca 
pacity  of  the  children  to  appreciate  them,  on  account  of 
their  being  blinded  by  their  wishes,  is  not  to  strengthen 
the  reasoning  powers,  but  to  confuse  and  bewilder  them, 
and  impede  their  development. 

Hight  Mode  of  Deeding  with  the  Reason  of  a  Child. 
The  effect,  however,  will  be  excellent  of  calling  into  ex 
ercise  the  reason  and  the  judgment  of  the  child  in  cases 
where  the  conclusion  which  he  arrives  at  can  be  safely  al 
lowed  to  determine  his  action.     You  can  help  him  in  such 


2oG  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

cases  by  giving  him  any  information  that  be  desires,  but 
do  not  embarrass  him,  and  interfere  with  his  exercising  his 
own  judgment  by  obtruding  advice.  Allow  him  in  this 
way  to  lay  out  his  own  garden,  to  plan  the  course  of  a 
walk  or  a  ride,  and  to  decide  upon  the  expenditure  of  his 
own  pocket-money,  within  certain  restrictions  in  respect  to 
such  things  as  would  be  dangerous  or  hurtful  to  himself, 
or  annoying  to  others.  As  he  grows  older  you  can  give 
him  the  charge  of  the  minor  arrangements  on  a  journey, 
such  as  taking  care  of  a  certain  number  of  the  parcels  car 
ried  in  the  hand,  choosing  a'  seat  in  the  car,  selecting  and 
engaging  a  hack  on  arriving  at  the  place  of  destination. 
Commit  such  things  to  his  charge  only  so  fast  as  you  can 
really  intrust  him  with  power  to  act,  and  then,  with  slight 
and  not  obtrusive  supervision  on  your  part,  leave  the  re 
sponsibility  with  him,  noticing  encouragingly  whatever  of 
fidelity  and  success  you  observe,  and  taking  little  notice — 
generally,  in  fact,  none  at  all — of  such  errors  and  failures 
as  result  simply  from  inexperience  and  immaturity. 

In  a  word,  make  no  attempt  to  seek  support  from  his 
judgment,  or  by  convincing  his  reason,  in  important  cases, 
where  his  feelings  or  wishes  are  involved,  but  in  all  such 
cases  rest  your  decisions  solely  upon  your  own  authority. 
But  then,  on  the  other  hand,  in  unimportant  cases,  where 
no  serious  evil  can  result  whichever  of  the  various  possible 
courses  are  taken,  call  his  judgment  into  exercise,  and  abide 
by  its  decisions.  Give  him  the  responsibility  if  he  likes  to 
take  it,  but  with  the  responsibility  give  him  the  power. 

Substantially  the  same  principles  as  explained  above,  in 
their  application  to  the  exercise  of  the  judgment,  apply  to 
the  cultivation  of  the  reasoning  powers — that  is  to  say,  in 
the  act  of  arguing,  or  drawing  conclusions  from  premises. 
Nothing  can  be  more  unprofitable  and  useless,  to  say  noth 
ing  of  its  irritating  and  vexatious  effect,  than  maintaining 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING.  23? 

an  argument  with  a  child — or  with  any  body  else,  in  fact — 
to  convince  him  against  his  will.  Arguing  very  soon  de 
generates,  in  such  a  case,  into  an  irritating  and  utterly  use 
less  dispute.  The  difference  of  opinion  which  gives  occa 
sion  for  such  discussions  arises  generally  from  the  fact  that 
the  child  sees  only  certain  of  the  more  obvious  and  imme 
diate  relations  and  bearings  of  the  subject  in  question, 
which  is,  in  fact,  all  that  can  be  reasonably  expected  of 
him,  and  forms  his  opinion  from  these  alone.  The  par 
ent,  on  the  other  hand,  takes  a  wider  view,  and  includes 
among  the  premises  on  which  his  conclusion  is  founded 
considerations  which  have  never  been  brought  to  the  at 
tention  of  the  child.  The  proper  course,  therefore,  for  him 
to  pursue  in  order  to  bring  the  child's  mind  into  harmony 
with  his  own,  is  not  to  ridicule  the  boy's  reasoning,  or  chide 
him  for  taking  so  short-sighted  a  view  of  the  subject,  or 
to  tell  him  it  is  very  foolish  for  him  to  talk  as  he  does,  or 
silence  him  by  a  dogmatic  decision,  delivered  in  a  dictato 
rial  and  overbearing  manner,  all  of  which  is  too  often  found 
to  characterize  the  discussions  between  parents  and  chil 
dren,  but  calmly  and  quietly  to  present  to  him  the  consid 
erations  bearing  upon  the  question  which  he  has  not  yet 
seen.  To  this  end,  and  to  bring  the  mind  of  the  child  into 
that  listening  and  willing  state  without  which  all  arguments 
and  even  all  attempts  at  instruction  are  wasted,  we  must 
listen  candidly  to  what  he  says  himself,  put  the  best  con 
struction  upon  it,  give  it  its  full  force ;  see  it,  in  a  word,  as 
nearly  as  possible  as  he  sees  it,  and  let  him  know  that  we 
do  so.  Then  he  will  be  much  more  ready  to  receive 
any  additional  considerations  which  we  may  present  to  his 
mind,  as  things  that  must  also  be  taken  into  account  in 
forming  a  final  judgment  on  the  question. 

A  boy,  for  example,  who  is  full  of  health  and  increasing 
vigor,  and  in  whom,  of  course,  those  organs  on  which  the 


S38  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

consciousness  of  strength  and  the  impulses  of  courage  de 
pend  are  in  the  course  of  rapid  and  healthy  development, 
in  reading  to  his  mother  a  story  in  which  a  thief  that  came 
into  a  back  store-room  of  a  house  in  the  evening,  with  a 
bag,  to  steal  meal,  was  detected  by  the  owner  and  frighten 
ed  away,  looks  up  from  his  book  and  says,  in  a  very  valiant 
manner, 

"  If  I  had  been  there,  and  had  a  gun,  I  would  have  shot 
him  on  the  spot." 

The  Rough  Mode  of  Treatment. 

Now,  if  the  mother  wishes  to  confuse  and  bewilder,  and 
to  crush  down,  so  to  speak,  the  reasoning  faculties  of  her 
child,  she  may  say, 

"  Nonsense,  George  !  It  is  of  no  use  for  you  to  talk  big 
in  that  way.  You  would  not  dare  to  fire  a  gun  in  such  a 
case,  still  less,  to  shoot  a  man.  The  first  thing  you  would 
do  would  be  to  run  away  and  hide.  And  then,  besides,  it 
would  be  very  wicked  for  you  to  kill  a  man  in  that  way. 
You  would  be  very  likely  to  get  yourself  hung  for  murder. 
Besides,  the  Bible  says  that  we  must  not  resist  evil;  so 
you  should  not  talk  so  coolly  about  shooting  a  man." 

The  poor  boy  would  be  overpowered  by  such  a  rebuke  as 
this,  and  perhaps  silenced.  The  incipient  and  half-formed 
ideas  in  his  mind  in  respect  to  the  right  of  self-defense,  the 
virtue  of  courage,  the  sanctity  of  life,  the  nature  and  the 
limits  of  the  doctrine  of  non-resistance,  would  be  all  thrown 
together  into  a  jumble  of  hopeless  confusion  in  his  mind, 
and  the  only  result  would  be  his  muttering  to  himself,  after 
a  moment  of  bewilderment  and  vexation,  "I  would  shoot 
him,  anyhow."  Such  treatment  would  not  only  fail  to  con 
vince  him  that  his  idea  was  wrong,  but  would  effectually 
close  his  heart  against  any  such  conviction. 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING.  23<J 

The  Gentle  Mode  of  Treatment. 

But  let  the  mother  first  see  and  recognize  those  bearings 
and  relations  of  the  question  which  the  boy  sees — that  is, 
those  which  are  the  most  direct  and  immediate — and  allow 
them  their  full  force,  and  she  establishes  a  sympathy  be 
tween  his  rnind  and  hers,  and  prepares  the  way  for  his 
being  led  by  her  to  taking  into  the  account  other  consid 
erations  which,  though  of  greater  importance,  are  not  so 
obvious,  and  which  it  would  be  wholly  unreasonable  to  ex 
pect  that  the  boy  would  see  himself,  since  they  do  not  come 
within  the  range  of  observation  that  could  be  reached  spon 
taneously  by  the  unaided  faculties  of  such  a  child.  Sup 
pose  the  mother  says,  in  reply  to  her  boy's  boastful  declara 
tion  that  he  would  shoot  the  robber, 

"There  would  be  a  certain  degree  of  justice  in  that,  no 
doubt." 

"  Yes,"  rejoins  the  boy,  "  it  would  be  no  more  than  he 
deserved." 

"  When  a  man  engages  in  the  commission  of  a  crime," 
adds  the  mother,  "  he  runs  the  risk  of  all  the  perils  that  he 
exposes  himself  to,  from  the  efforts  of  people  to  defend 
their  property,  and  perhaps  their  lives ;  so  that,  perhaps,  he 
would  have  no  right  to  complain  if  people  did  shoot  at 
him." 

"  Xot  a  bit  of  right,"  says  the  boy. 

"  But  then  there  are  some  other  things  to  be  consider 
ed,"  says  the  mother,  "  which,  though  they  do  not  show 
that  it  would  be  unjust  towards  him,  might  make  it  bad 
for  us  to  shoot  him." 

"  What  things  ?"  asks  the  boy. 

The  mother  having  candidly  admitted  whatever  there 
was  of  truth  in  the  boy's  view  of  the  subject,  and  thus 
placed  herself,  as  it  were,  side  by  side  with  him,  he  is  pre- 


240  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

pared  to  see  and  admit  what  she  is  going  to  point  out  to 
his  observation — not  as  something  directly  antagonistic  to 
what  he  has  said,  but  as  something  additional,  something 
which  is  also  to  be  taken  into  the  account. 

"  In  the  first  place,"  continues  the  mother,  "  there  would 
be  the  body  to  be  disposed  of,  if  you  were  to  shoot  him. 
How  should  we  manage  about  that?" 

It  would  make  a  great  difference  in  such  a  case  in  re 
spect  to  the  danger  of  putting  the  boy's  mind  into  a  state 
of  antagonism  against  his  mother's  presentation  of  the  case, 
whether  she  says,  "How  shall  ice  manage  about  that?"  or, 
"  How  will  you  manage  about  that  ?" 

"  Oh,"  replies  the  boy,  "  we  would  send  to  where  he  lives, 
and  let  his  people  come  and  take  him  away ;  or,  if  he  was 
in  a  city,  we  would  call  in  the  police." 

"  That  would  be  a  good  plan,"  says  his  mother.  "  We 
would  call  in  the  police,  if  there  were  any  police  at  hand. 
But  then  there  would  be  the  blood  all  over  the  carpet  and 
the  floor." 

"There  would  not  be  any  carpet  on  the  floor  in  a  store 
room,"  says  the  boy. 

"True,"  replies  the  mother;  "you  are  right  there;  so 
that  there  would  not  be,  after  all,  any  great  trouble  about 
the  blood.  But  the  man  might  not  be  killed  outright,  and 
it  might  be  some  time  before  the  policemen  would  come, 
and  we  should  see  him  all  that  time  writhing  and  strug 
gling  in  dreadful  convulsions,  which  would  fix  horrid  im 
pressions  upon  our  minds,  that  would  haunt  us  for  a  long 
time  afterwards." 

The  mother  could  then  go  on  to  explain  that,  if  the  man 
had  a  wife  and  children,  any  one  who  had  killed  the  hus 
band  and  father  would  pity  them  as  long  as  he  lived,  and 
could  never  see  them  or  hear  them  spoken  of  without  feel 
ing  pain,  and  even  some  degree  of  self-reproach ;  although, 


JUDGMENT  AX1>  REASONING.  341 

so  far  as  the  man  himself  was  concerned,  it  might  be  that 
no  injustice  had  been  done.  After  the  excitement  was 
over,  too,  he  would  begin  to  make  excuses  for  the  man, 
thinking  tli.it  perhaps  he  was  poor,  and  his  children  were 
suffering  for  bread,  and  it  was  on  their  account  that  he 
was  tempted  to  steal,  and  this,  though  it  would  not  justify, 
might  in  some  degree  palliate  the  act  for  which  he  was 
slain ;  or  that  he  had  been  badly  brought  up,  having  never 
received  any  proper  instruction,  but  had  been  trained  and 
taught  from  his  boyhood  to  pilfer  and  steal. 

These  and  many  analogous  considerations  might  be  pre 
sented  to  the  child,  going  to  show  that,  whatever  the  rule 
of  strict  justice  in  respect  to  the  criminal  may  enjoin,  it  is 
not  right  to  take  the  life  of  a  wrong-doer  merely  to  prevent 
the  commission  of  a  minor  offense.  The  law  of  the  land 
recognizes  this  principle,  and  does  not  justify  the  taking  of 
life  except  in  extreme  cases,  such  as  those  of  imminent  per 
sonal  danger. 

A  friendly  conversation  of  this  kind,  carried  on,  not  in  a 
spirit  of  antagonism  to  what  the  boy  has  said,  but  in  the 
form  of  presenting  information  novel  to  him  in  respect  to 
considerations  which  were  to  be  taken  into  the  account  in 
addition  to  those  which  he  had  himself  perceived,  will  have 
a  great  effect  not  only  in  modifying  his  opinion  in  this  case, 
but  also  in  impressing  him  with  the  general  idea  that,  be 
fore  adopting  a  decisive  opinion  on  any  subject,  we  must 
take  care  to  acquaint  ourselves  not  merely  with  the  most 
direct  and  obvious  relations  of  it,  but  must  look  farther 
into  its  bearings  and  results,  so  that  our  conclusion  may 
have  a  solid  foundation  by  reposing  upon  as  many  as  possi 
ble  of  the  considerations  which  ought  really  to  affect  it. 
Thus,  by  avoiding  all  appearance  of  antagonism,  we  secure 
a  ready  reception  for  the  truths  we  offer,  and  cultivate  the 
reasoning  powers  at  the  same  time. 

L 


S42  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

General  Principles. 

The  principles,  then,  which  are  meant  to  be  illustrated 
and  enforced  in  this  chapter  are  these : 

1.  That  the  mental  faculties  of  children  on  which  the  ex 
ercise  of  judgment  and  of  the  power  of  reasoning  depend 
are  not  among  those  which  are  the  earliest  developed,  and 
they  do  not  attain,  in  the  first  years  of  life,  to  such  a  degree 
of  strength  or  maturity  as  to  justify  placing  any  serious  re 
liance  upon  them  for  the  conduct  of  life. 

2.  Parents  should,  accordingly,  not  put  them  to  any  se 
rious  test,  or  impose  any  heavy  burden  upon  them ;   but 
should  rely  solely  on  their  own  authority,  as  the  expression 
of  their  own  judgment,  and  not  upon  their  ability  to  con 
vince  the  judgment  of  the  child,  in  important  cases,  or  in 
those  where  its  inclinations  or  its  feelings  are  concerned. 

3.  But  they  may  greatly  promote  the  healthy  develop 
ment  of  these  faculties  on  the  part  of  their  children,  by 
bringing  to  their  view  the  less  obvious  bearings  and  rela 
tions  of  various  acts  and  occurrences  on  which  judgment  is 
to  be  passed,  in  cases  where  their  feelings  and  inclinations 
are  not  specially  concerned — doing  this  either  in  the  form 
of  explaining  their  own  parental  principles  of  management, 
or  practically,  by  intrusting  them  with  responsibility,  and 
giving  them  a  degree  of  actual  power  commensurate  with 
it,  in  cases  where  it  is  safe  to  do  so ;  and, 

4.  They  may  enlarge  the  range  of  the  children's  ideas, 
and  accustom  them  to  take  wider  views  of  the  various  sub 
jects  which  occupy  their  attention,  by  discussing  with  them 
the  principles  involved  in  the  several  cases;  but  such  dis 
cussions  must  be  conducted  in  a  calm,  gentle,  and  consider 
ate  manner,  the  parent  looking  always  upon  what  the  child 
says  in  the  most  favorable  light,  putting  the  best  construc 
tion  upon  it,  and  admitting  its  force,  and  then  presenting 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING.  343 

such  additional  views  as  ought  also  to  be  taken  into  ac 
count,  with  moderate  earnestness,  and  in  an  unobtrusive 
manner,  thus  taking  short  and  easy  steps  himself  in  order 
to  accommodate  his  own  rate  of  progress  to  the  still  imper 
fectly  developed  capabilities  of  the  child. 

In  a  word,  it  is  with  the  unfolding  of  the  mental  faculties 
of  the  young  as  it  is  with  the  development  of  their  muscles 
and  the  improvement  of  their  bodily  powers;  and  just  as 
the  way  to  teach  a  child  to  walk  is  not  to  drag  him  along 
hurriedly  and  forcibly  by  the  arm  faster  than  he  can  him 
self  form  the  necessary  steps,  but  to  go  slowly,  accommoda 
ting  your  movements  to  those  which  are  natural  to  him, 
and  encouraging  him  by  letting  him  perceive  that  his  own 
efforts  produce  appreciable  and  useful  results — so,  in  culti 
vating  any  of  their  thinking  and  reasoning  powers,  we  must 
not  put  at  the  outset  too  heavy  a  burden  upon  them,  but 
must  call  them  gently  into  action,  within  the  limits  pre 
scribed  by  the  degree  of  maturity  to  which  they  have  at 
tained,  standing  a  little  aside,  as  it  were,  in  doing  so,  and 
encouraging  them  to  do  the  work  themselves,  instead  of 
taking  it  out  of  their  hands  and  doing  it  for  them. 


244  GENTLE  MEASURES. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

WISHES  AND  REQUESTS. 

IN  respect  to  the  course  to  be  pursued  in  relation  to  the 
requests  and  wishes  of  children,  the  following  general  rules 
result  from  the  principles  inculcated  in  the  chapter  on 
Judgment  and  Reasoning,  or,  at  least,  are  in  perfect  accord 
ance  with  them — namely : 

Absolute  Authority  in  Cases  of  vital  Importance. 
1.  In  respect  to  all  those  questions  in  the  decision  of 
which  their  permanent  and  essential  welfare  are  involved, 
such  as  those  relating  to  their  health,  the  company  they 
keep,  the  formation  of  their  characters,  the  progress  of 
their  education,  and  the  like,  the  parent  should  establish 
and  maintain  in  the  minds  of  the  children  from  their  earli 
est  years,  a  distinct  understanding  that  the  decision  of  all 
such  questions  is  reserved  for  his  own  or  her  own  exclusive 
jurisdiction.  While  on  any  of  the  details  connected  with 
these  questions  the  feelings  and  wishes  of  the  child  ought 
to  be  ascertained,  and,  so  far  as  possible,  taken  into  the  ac 
count,  the  course  to  be  pursued  should  not,  in  general,  be 
discussed  with  the  child,  nor  should  their  objections  be  re 
plied  to  in  any  form.  The  parent  should  simply  take  such 
objections  as  the  judge  takes  the  papers  in  a  case  which 
has  been  tried  before  him,  and  reserve  his  decision.  The 
principles  by  which  the  parent  is  governed  in  the  course 
which  he  pursues,  and  the  reasons  for  them,  may  be  made 
the  subject  of  very  free  conversation,  and  may  be  fully  ex 
plained,  provided  that  care  is  taken  that  this  is  never  done 


WISHES  AND  REQUESTS.  345 

when  any  practical  question  is  pending,  such  as  would  give 
the  explanations  of  the  parent  the  aspect  of  persuasions, 
employed  to  supply  the  deficiency  of  authority  too  weak  to 
enforce  obedience  to  a  command.  It  is  an  excellent  thing 
to  have  children  see  and  appreciate  the  reasonableness  of 
their  parents'  commands,  provided  that  this  reasonableness 
is  shown  to  them  in  such  a  way  that  they  are  not  led  to 
imagine  that  their  being  able  to  see  it  is  in  any  sense  a  con 
dition  precedent  of  obedience. 

Great  Indulgence  in  Cases  not  of  vital  Importance. 

2.  The  authority  of  the  parent  being  thus  fully  estab 
lished  in  regard  to  all  those  things  which,  being  of  par 
amount  importance  in  respect  to  the  child's  present  and  fu 
ture  welfare,  ought  to  be  regulated  by  the  comparative  far- 
seeing  wisdom  of  the  parent,  with  little  regard  to  the  eva 
nescent  fancies  of  the  child,  it  is  on  every  account  best, 
in  respect  to  all  other  things,  to  allow  to  the  children  the 
largest  possible  indulgence.  The  largest  indulgence  for 
them  in  their  occupations,  their  plays,  and  even  in  their  ca 
prices  and  the  freaks  of  their  fancy,  means  freedom  of  ac 
tion  for  their  unfolding  powers  of  body  and  mind;  and 
freedom  of  action  for  these  powers  means  the  most  rapid 
and  healthy  development  of  them. 

The  rule  is,  in  a  word,  that,  after  all  that  is  essential  for 
their  health,  the  formation  of  their  characters,  and  their 
progress  in  study  is  secured,  by  being  brought  under  the 
dominion  of  absolute  parental  authority,  in  respect  to  what 
remains  the  children  are  to  be  indulged  and  allowed  to 
have  their  own  way  as  much  as  possible.  When,  in  their 
plays,  they  come  to  you  for  permission  to  do  a  particular 
thing,  do  not  consider  whether  or  not  it  seems  to  you  that 
you  would  like  to  do  it  yourself,  but  only  whether  there  is 
any  real  and  substantial  objection  to  their  doing  it. 


246  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

The  Hearing  to  come  before  the  Decision,  not  after  it. 

The  courts  of  justice  adopt  what  seems  to  be  a  very  sen 
sible  and  a  very  excellent  mode  of  proceeding,  though  it  is 
exactly  the  contrary  to  the  one  which  many  parents  pursue, 
and  that  is,  they  hear  the  case  first,  and  decide  afterwards. 
A  great  many  parents  seem  to  prefer  to  decide  first,  and 
then  hear — that  is  to  say,  when  the  children  come  to  them 
with  any  request  or  proposal,  they  answer  at  once  with  a 
refusal  more  or  less  decided,  and  then  allow  themselves  to 
be  led  into  a  long  discussion  on  the  subject,  if  discussion 
that  may  be  called  which  consists  chiefly  of  simple  persist 
ence  and  importunity  on  one  side,  and  a  gradually  relax 
ing  resistance  on  the  other,  until  a  reluctant  consent  is 
finally  obtained. 

Now,  just  as  it  is  an  excellent  way  to  develop  and 
strengthen  the  muscles  of  a  child's  arms,  for  his  father  to 
hold  the  two  ends  of  his  cane  in  his  hands  while  the  child 
grasps  it  by  the  middle,  and  then  for  them  to  pull  against 
each  other,  about  the  yard,  until,  finally,  the  child  is  allowed 
to  get  the  cane  away;  so  the  way  to  cherish  and  confirm 
the  habit  of  "  teasing  "  in  children  is  to  maintain  a  discus 
sion  with  them  for  a  time  in  respect  to  some  request  which 
is  at  first  denied,  and  then  finally,  after  a  protracted  and 
gradually  weakening  resistance,  to  allow  them  to  gain  the 
victory  and  carry  their  point.  On  the  other  hand,  an  abso 
lutely  certain  way  of  preventing  any  such  habit  from  be 
ing  formed,  and  of  effectually  breaking  it  up  when  it  is 
formed,  is  the  simple  process  of  hearing  first,  and  deciding 
afterwards. 

When,  therefore,  children  come  with  any  request,  or  ex 
press  any  wish,  in  cases  where  no  serious  interests  are  in 
volved,  in  deciding  upon  the  answer  to  be  given,  the  mother 
should,  in  general,  simply  ask  herself,  not  Is  it  wise  ?  Will 


WISHES  AND  REQUESTS.  347 

they  succeed  in  it?  Will  they  enjoy  it?  Would  I  like  to 
do  it  if  I  were  they  ? — but  simply,  Is  there  any  harm  or 
danger  in  it?  If  not,  readily  and  cordially  consent.  But 
do  not  announce  your  decision  till  after  you  have  heard  all 
that  they  have  to  say,  if  you  intend  to  hear  what  they  have 
lo  say  at  all. 

If  there  are  any  objections  to  what  the  children  propose 
which  affect  .the  question  in  relation  to  it  as  a  means  of 
amusement  for  them,  you  may  state  them  in  the  wray  of  in 
formation  for  them,  after  you  have  given  your  consent.  In 
that  way  you  present  the  difficulties  as  subjects  for  their 
consideration,  and  not  as  objections  on  your  part  to  their 
plan.  But,  however  serious  the  difficulties  may  be  in  tho 
way  of  the  children's  accomplishing  the  object  which  they 
have  in  view,  they  constitute  no  objection  to  their  mak 
ing  the  attempt,  provided  that  their  plans  involve  no  seri 
ous  harm  or  damage  to  themselves,  or  to  any  other  per 
son  or  interest. 

The  Wrong  Way. 

Two  boys,  for  example,  William  and  James,  who  have 
been  playing  in  the  yard  with  their  little  sister  Lucy,  come 
in  to  their  mother  with  a  plan  for  a  fish-pond.  They  wish 
for  permission  to  dig  a  hole  in  a  corner  of  the  yard  and  fill 
it  with  water,  and  then  to  get  some  fish  out  of  the  brook  to 
put  into  it. 

The  mother,  on  hearing  the  proposal,  says  at  once,  with 
out  waiting  for  any  explanations, 

"  Oh  no,  I  would  not  do  that.  It  is  a  very  foolish  plan. 
You  will  only  get  yourselves  all  muddy.  Besides,  you 
can't  catch  any  fishes  to  put  into  it,  and  if  you  do,  they 
won't  live.  And  then  the  grass  is  so  thick  that  you  could 
not  get  it  up  to  make  your  hole." 

But  William  says  that  they  can  dig  the  grass  up  with 


248  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

their  little  spades.  They  had  tried  it,  and  found  that  they 
could  do  so. 

And  James  says  that  they  have  already  tried  catching 
the  fishes,  and  found  that  they  could  do  it  by  means  of  a 
long-handled  dipper;  and  Lucy  says  that  they  will  all  be 
very  careful  not  to  get  themselves  wet  and  muddy. 

"  But  you'll  get  your  feet  wet  standing  on  the  edge  of 
the  brook,"  says  the  mother.  "  You  can't  help  it." 

"  No,  mother,"  replies  James,  "  there  is  a  large  flat  stone 
that  we  can  stand  upon,  and  so  keep  our  feet  perfectly  dry. 
See !" 

So  saying,  he  shows  his  own  feet,  which  are  quite  dry. 

Thus  the  discussion  goes  on ;  the  objections  made — being, 
as  usual  in  such  cases,  half  of  them  imaginary  ones,  brought 
forward  only  for  effect — are  one  after  another  disposed  of, 
or  at  least  set  aside,  until  at  length  the  mother,  as  if  beaten 
off  her  ground  after  a  contest,  gives  a  reluctant  and  hesita 
ting  consent,  and  the  children  go  away  to  commence  their 
work  only  half  pleased,  and  separated  in  heart  and  affection, 
for  the  time  being,  from  their  mother  by  not  finding  in  her, 
as  they  think,  any  sympathy  with  them,  or  disposition  to 
aid  them  in  their  pleasures. 

They  have,  however,  by  their  mothcVs  management  of 
the  case,  received  an  excellent  lesson  in  arguing-  and  teas 
ing.  They  have  found  by  it,  what  they  have  undoubtedly 
often  found  on  similar  occasions  before,  that  their  mother's 
first  decision  is  not  at  all  to  be  taken  as  a  final  one ;  that 
they  have  only  to  persevere  in  replying  to  her  objections 
and  answering  her  arguments,  and  especially  in  persisting 
in  their  importunity,  and  they  will  be  pretty  sure  to  gain 
their  end  at  last. 

This  mode  of  management,  also,  has  the  effect  of  fixing 
the  position  of  their  mother  in  their  minds  as  one  of  an 
tagonism  to  them  in  respect  to  their  childish  pleasures. 


WISHES  AND  REQUESTS.  S49 

The  Eight  Way. 

If  in  such  a  case  as  this  the  mother  wishes  to  avoid  these 
evils,  the  way  is  plain.  She  must  first  consider  the  propo 
sal  herself,  and  come  to  her  own  decision  in  regard  to  it. 
Before  coining  to  a  decision,  she  may,  if  she  has  leisure  and 
opportunity,  make  additional  inquiries  in  respect  to  the  de 
tails  of  the  plan ;  or,  if  she  is  otherwise  occupied,  she  may 
consider  them  for  a  moment  in  her  own  mind.  If  the  ob 
jections  are  decisive,  she  should  not  state  them  at  the  time, 
unless  she  specially  wishes  them  not  to  have  a  fair  hearing ; 
for  when  children  have  a  plan  in  mind  which  they  are  ea 
ger  to  carry  out,  their  very  eagerness  entirely  incapacitates 
them  for  properly  appreciating  any  objections  which  may 
be  offered  to  it.  It  is  on  every  account  better,  therefore — 
as  a  general  rule — not  to  offer  any  such  objections  at  the 
time,  but  simply  to  give  your  decision. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  there  is  no  serious  evil  to  be 
apprehended  in  allowing  children  to  attempt  to  carry  any 
particular  plan  they  form  into  effect,  the  foolishness  of  it, 
in  a  practical  point  of  view,  or  even  the  impossibility  of 
success  in  accomplishing  the  object  proposed,  constitute 
no  valid  objection  to  it;  for  children  amuse  themselves  as 
much,  and  sometimes  learn  as  much,  and  promote  as  ef 
fectually  the  development  of  their  powers  and  faculties,  by 
their  failures  as  by  their  successes. 

In  the  case  supposed,  then,  the  mother,  in  order  to  man 
age  it  right,  would  first  consider  for  a  moment  whether 
there  was  any  decisive  objection  to  the  plan.  This  would 
depend,  perhaps,  upon  the  manner  in  which  the  children 
were  dressed  at  the  time,  or  upon  the  amount  of  injury 
that  would  be  done  to  the  yard ;  and  this  question  would 
in  its  turn  depend,  in  many  cases,  on  the  comparative  value 
set  by  the  mother  upon  the  beauty  of  her  yard,  and  the 

L2 


250  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

health,  development,  and  happiness  of  her  children.  But 
supposing  that  she  sees  —  which  she  can  do  in  most  in 
stances  at  a  glance  —  that  there  can  no  serious  harm  be 
done  by  the  experiment,  but  only  that  it  is  a  foolish  plan 
so  far  as  the  attainment  of  the  object  is  concerned,  aucl  ut 
terly  hopeless  of  success,  which,  considering  that  the  real 
end  to  be  attained  is  the  healthy  development  of  the  chil 
dren's  powers  by  the  agreeable  exercise  of  them  in  useless 
as  well  as  in  useful  labors,  is  no  objection  at  all,  then  she 
should  answer  at  once,  "  Yes,  you  can  do  that  if  you  like ; 
and  perhaps  I  can  help  you  about  planning  the  work." 

After  saying  this,  any  pointing  out  of  obstacles  and  diffi 
culties  on  her  part  does  not  present  itself  to  their  minds  in 
the  light  of  opposition  to  their  plan,  but  of  aid  in  helping  it 
forward,  and  so  places  her,  in  their  view,  on  their  side,  in* 
stead  of  in  antagonism  to  them. 

"What  do  you  propose  to  do  with  the  earth  that  you 
take  out  of  the  hole  ?"  she  asks. 

The  children  had,  perhaps,  not  thought  of  that. 

"  How  would  it  do,"  continues  the  mother,  "  to  put  it 
in  your  wheelbarrow  and  let  it  stay  there,  so  that  in  case 
your  plan  should  not  succeed — and  men,  in  any  thing  that 
they  undertake,  always  consider  it  wise  to  take  into  account 
the  possibility  that  they  may  not  succeed — you  can  easily 
bring  it  all  back  and  fill  up  the  hole  again." 

The  children  think  that  would  be  a  very  good  plan. 

"And  how  are  you  going  to  fill  your  hole  with  water 
when  you  get  it  dug  out  ?"  asks  the  mother. 

They  were  going  to  carry  the  water  from  the  pump  in  a 
pail. 

"And  how  are  you  going  to  prevent  spilling  the  water 
over  upon  your  trowsers  and  into  your  shoes  while  carry 
ing  it?" 

"  Oh,  we  will  be  very  careful,"  replied  William. 


WISHES  AND  REQUESTS.  351 

"How  would  it  do  only  to  fill  the  pail  half  full  each 
time,"  suggests  the  mother.  "  You  would  have  to  go  more 
times,  it  is  true,  but  that  would  be  better  than  getting 
splashed  with  water." 

The  boys  think  that  that  would  be  a  very  good  plan. 

In  this  manner  the  various  difficulties  to  be  anticipated 
may  be  brought  to  the  notice  of  the  children,  while,  they 
and  their  mother  being  in  harmony  and  sympathy  with 
each  other — and  not  in  opposition — in  the  consideration  of 
them,  she  can  bring  them  forward  without  any  difficulty, 
and  make  them  the  means  of  teaching  the  children  many 
useful  lessons  of  prudence  and  precaution. 

Capriciousness  in  Play. 

The  mother,  then,  after  warning  the  children  that  they 
must  expect  to  encounter  many  unexpected  difficulties  in 
their  undertaking,  and  telling  them  that  they  must  not  be 
too  much  disappointed  if  they  should  find  that  they  could 
not  succeed,  dismisses  them  to  their  work.  They  proceed 
to  dig  the  hole,  putting  the  materials  in  the  wheelbarrow, 
and  then  fill  up  the  hole  with  water  brought  in  half  pailfuls 
at  a  time  from  the  pump ;  but  are  somewhat  disappointed 
to  find  that  the  water  soaks  away  pretty  rapidly  into  the 
ground,  and  that,  moreover,  it  is  so  turbid,  and  the  surface 
is  so  covered  with  little  leaves,  sticks,  and  dust,  as  to  make 
it  appear  very  doubtful  whether  they  would  be  able  to  see 
the  fishes  if  they  were  to  succeed  in  catching  any  to  put 
in.  However,  they  take  their  long-handled  dipper  and  pro 
ceed  towards  the  brook.  On  the  way  they  stop  to  gather 
some  flowers  that  grow  near  the  path  that  leads  through 
the  field,  when  the  idea  suddenly  enters  Lucy's  head  that 
it  would  be  better  to  make  a  garden  than  a  fish-pond; 
flowers,  as  she  says,  being  so  much  prettier  than  fishes.  So 
they  all  go  back  to  their  mother  and  explain  the  change  of 


252  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

their  plan.  They  ask  for  leave  to  dig  up  a  place  which 
they  had  found  where  the  ground  was  loose  and  sandy,  and 
easy  to  dig,  and  to  set  out  flowers  in  it  which  they  had 
found  in  the  field  already  in  bloom.  "  We  are  going  to  give 
up  the  fish-pond,"  they  say  in  conclusion,  "  because  flowers 
are  so  much  prettier  than  fishes." 

The  mother,  instead  of  finding  fault  with  them  for  being 
so  capricious  and  changeable  in  their  plans,  says, "  I  think 
you  are  right.  Fishes  look  pretty  enough  when  they  are 
swimming  in  the  brook,  but  flowers  are  much  prettier  to 
transport  and  take  care  of.  But  first  go  and  fill  up  the 
hole  you  made  for  the  pond  with  the  earth  that  is  in  the 
wheelbarrow ;  and  when  you  have  made  your  garden  and 
moved  the  flowers  into  it,  I  advise  you  to  get  the  watering- 
pot  and  give  them  a  good  watering." 

It  may  be  said  that  children  ought  to  be  brought  up  in 
habits  of  steadiness  and  perseverance  in  what  they  under 
take,  and  that  this  kind  of  indulgence  in  their  capricious- 
ness  would  have  a  very  bad  tendency  in  this  respect.  The 
answer  is,  that  there  arc  times  and  seasons  for  all  the  dif 
ferent  kinds  of  lessons  which  children  have  to  learn,  and 
that  when  in  their  hours  of  recreation  they  are  amusing 
themselves  in  play,  lessons  in  perseverance  and  system  are 
out  of  place.  The  object  to  be  sought  for  then  is  the  ex 
ercise  and  growth  of  their  bodily  organs  and  members,  the 
development  of  their  fancy  and  imagination,  and  their  pow 
ers  of  observation  of  nature.  The  work  of  training  them 
to  habits  of  system  and  of  steady  perseverance  in  seriaus 
pursuits,  which,  though  it  is  a  work  that  ought  by  no  means 
to  be  neglected,  is  not  the  appropriate  work  of  such  a  time. 

Summary  of  Results. 

The  general  rules  for  the  government  of  the  parent  in  his 
treatment  of  his  children's  requests  and  wishes  are  these: 


WISHED  AXD  REQUESTS.  253 

In  all  matters  of  essential  importance  he  is  to  decide  him 
self  and  simply  announce  his  decision,  without  giving  any 
reasons  for  the  purpose  of  justifying  it,  or  for  inducing 
submission  to  it. 

And  in  all  matters  not  of  essential  importance  he  is  to 
allow  the  children  the  greatest  possible  freedom  of  action. 

And  the  rule  for  children  is  that  they  are  always  to  obey 
the  command  the  first  time  it  is  given,  without  question, 
and  to  take  the  first  answer  to  any  request  without  any  ob 
jection  or  demurring  whatever. 

It  is  very  easy  to  see  ho\v  smoothly  and  happily  the  af 
fairs  of  domestic  government  would  go  on  if  these  rules 
were  established  and  obeyed.  All  that  is  required  on  the 
part  of  parents  for  their  complete  establishment  is,  first, 
a  clear  comprehension  of  them,  and  then  a  calm,  quiet,  and 
gentle,  but  still  inflexible  firmness  in  maintaining  them. 
Unfortunately,  however,  such  qualities  as  these,  simple  as 
they  seem,  are  the  most  rare.  If,  instead  of  gentle  but  firm 
consistency  and  steadiness  of  action,  ardent,  impulsive,  and 
capricious  energy  and  violence  were  required,  it  would  be 
comparatively  easy  to  find  them.  How  seldom  do  we  see  a 
mother's  management  of  her  children  regulated  by  a  calm, 
quiet,  gentle,  and  considerate  decision  that  thinks  before  it 
speaks  in  all  important  matters,  and  when  it  speaks,  is  firm ; 
and  yet,  which  readily  and  gladly  accords  to  the  children 
every  liberty  and  indulgence  which  can  do  themselves  or 
others  no  harm.  And  on  the  other  hand,  how  often  do  we 
see  foolish  laxity  and  indulgence  in  yielding  to  importuni 
ty  in  cases  of  vital  importance,  alternating  with  vexatious 
thwartings,  rebuffs,  and  refusals  in  respect  to  desires  and 
wishes  the  gratification  of  which  could  do  no  injury  at  all. 


254  GENTLE  MEASURES. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

CHILDREN'S  QUESTIONS. 

THE  disposition  to  ask  questions,  which  is  so  universal 
and  so  strong  a  characteristic  of  childhood,  is  the  open  door 
which  presents  to  the  mother  the  readiest  and  most  easy 
access  possible  to  the  mind  and  heart  of  her  child.  The 
opportunities  and  facilities  thus  afforded  to  her  would  be 
the  source  of  the  greatest  pleasure  to  herself,  and  of  the 
greatest  benefit  to  her  child,  if  she  understood  better  how 
to  avail  herself  of  them.  I  propose,  in  this  chapter,  to  give 
some  explanations  and  general  directions  for  the  guidance 
of  mothers,  of  older  brothers  and  sisters,  and  of  teachers — 
of  all  persons,  in  fact,  who  may,  from  time  to  time,  have 
young  children  under  their  care  or  in  their  society.  I  have 
no  doubt  that  some  of  my  rules  will  strike  parents,  at  first 
view,  as  paradoxical  and,  perhaps,  almost  absurd ;  but  I 
hope  that  on  more  mature  reflection  they  will  be  found  to 
be  reasonable  and  just. 

The  Curiosity  of  Children  not  a  Fault. 

1.  The  curiosity  of  children  is  not  a  fault,  and  therefore 
we  must  never  censure  them  for  asking  questions,  or  lead 
them  to  think  that  we  consider  the  disposition  to  do  so  a 
fault  on  their  part;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  this  disposition 
is  to  be  encouraged  as  much  as  possible. 

We  must  remember  that  a  child,  when  his  powers  of  ob 
servation  begin  to  be  developed,  finds  every  thing  around 
him  full  of  mystery  and  wonder.  Why  some  things  are 
hard  and  some  are  soft — why  some  things  will  roll  and 


CHILDREN'S  QUESTIONS.  255 

some  will  not — why  lie  is  not  hurt  when  he  falls  on  the 
sofa,  and  is  hurt  when  he  falls  on  the  floor — why  a  chair 
will  tumble  over  when  he  climbs  up  by  the  rounds  of  it, 
while  yet  the  steps  of  the  stairs  remain  firm  and  can  be  as 
cended  without  danger — why  one  thing  is  black,  and  anoth 
er  red,  and  another  green — why  water  will  all  go  away  of 
itself  from  his  hands  or  his  dress,  while  mud  will  not — why 
he  can  dig  in  the  ground,  but  can  not  dig  in  a  floor — all  is  a 
mystery,  and  the  little  adventurer  is  in  a  continual  state  of 
curiosity  and  wonder,  not  only  to  learn  the  meaning  of  all 
these  things,  but  also  of  desire  to  extend  his  observations, 
and  find  out  more  and  more  of  the  astonishing  phenomena 
that  are  exhibited  around  him.  The  good  feeling  of  the 
mother,  or  of  any  intelligent  friend  who  is  willing  to  aid 
him  in  his  efforts,  is,  of  course,  invaluable  to  him  as  a 
means  of  promoting  his  advancement  in  knowledge  and  of 
developing  his  powers. 

Remember,  therefore,  that  the  disposition  of  a  child  to 
ask  questions  is  not  a  fault,  but  only  an  indication  of  his  in 
creasing  mental  activity,  and  of  his  desire  to  avail  himself 
of  the  only  means  within  his  reach  of  advancing  his  knowl 
edge  and  of  enlarging  the  scope  of  his  intelligence  in  re 
spect  to  the  strange  and  wonderful  phenomena  constantly 
observable  around  him. 

Sometimes,  per  haps,  a  Source  of  Inconvenience. 
Of  course  there  will  be  times  when  it  is  inconvenient  for 
the  parent  to  attend  to  the  questions  of  the  child,  and  when 
he  must,  consequently,  be  debarred  of  the  pleasure  and  priv 
ilege  of  asking  them ;  but  even  at  such  times  as  these  the 
disposition  to  ask  them  must  not  be  attributed  to  him  as  a 
fault.  Never  tell  him  that  he  is  "  a  little  tease  " — that  "  you 
are  tired  to  death  of  answering  his  questions  " — that  he  is 
w  a  chatter-box  that  would  weary  the  patience  of  Job ;"  or 


250  GENTLE  MEASURES, 

that,  if  he  will  "sit  still  for  half  an  hour,  without  speaking 
a  word,  you  will  give  him  a  reward."  If  you  are  going  to 
be  engaged,  and  so  can  not  attend  to  him,  say  to  him  that 
you  wish  you  could  talk  with  him,  and  answer  the  ques 
tions,  but  that  you  are  going  to  be  busy  and  can  not  do  it ; 
and  then,  after  providing  him  with  some  other  means  of  oc 
cupation,  require  him  to  be  silent :  though  even  then  you 
ought  to  relieve  the  tedium  of  silence  for  him  by  stopping 
every  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  from  your  reading,  or  your  let 
ter-writing,  or  the  planning  of  your  work,  or  whatever  your 
employment  may  be,  and  giving  your  attention  to  him  for 
a  minute  or  two,  and  affording  him  an  opportunity  to  re 
lieve  the  pressure  on  his  mind  by  a  little  conversation. 

Answers  to  be  short  and  simple. 

2.  Give  generally  to  children's  questions  the  shortest  and 
simplest  answers  possible. 

One  reason  why  parents  find  the  questions  of  children  so 
fatiguing  to  them,  is  that  they  attempt  too  much  in  their  an 
swers.  If  they  would  give  the  right  kind  of  answers,  they 
would  find  the  work  of  replying  very  easy,  and  in  most  of 
their  avocations  it  would  occasion  them  very  little  interrup 
tion.  These  short  and  simple  answers  are  all  that  a  child 
requires.  A  full  and  detailed  explanation  of  any  thing  they 
ask  about  is  as  tiresome  for  them  to  listen  to  as  it  ia  for 
the  mother  to  frame  and  give ;  while  a  short  and  simple  re 
ply  which  advances  them  one  step  in  their  knowledge  of 
the  subject  is  perfectly  easy  for  the  mother  to  give,  and  is, 
at  the  same  time,  all  that  they  wish  to  receive. 

For  example,  let  us  suppose  that  the  father  and  mother 
are  taking  a  ride  on  a  summer  afternoon  after  a  shower, 
with  little  Johnny  sitting  upon  the  seat  between  them  in 
the  chaise.  The  parents  are  engaged  in  conversation  with 
each  other,  we  will  suppose,  and  would  not  like  to  be  inter- 


CHILDREN'S  QUESTIONS.  257 

rnpted.  Johnny  presently  spies  a  rainbow  on  a  cloud  in 
the  east,  and,  after  uttering  an  exclamation  of  delight,  asks 
his  mother  what  made  the  rainbow.  She  hears  the  ques 
tion,  and  her  mind,  glancing  for  a  moment  at  the  difficulty 
of  giving  an  intelligible  explanation  of  so  grand  a  phenome 
non  to  such  a  child,  experiences  an  obscure  sensation  of  per 
plexity  and  annoyance,  but  not  quite  enough  to  take  off  her 
attention  from  her  conversation ;  so  she  goes  on  and  takes 
no  notice  of  Johnny's  inquiry.  Johnny,  accordingly,  soon 
repeats  it,  "  Mother !  mother  !  what  makes  the  rainbow  ?" 

At  length  her  attention  is  forced  to  the  subject,  and  she 
either  tells  Johnny  that  she  can't  explain  it  to  him — that 
he  is  not  old  enough  to  understand  it ;  or,  perhaps,  scolds 
him  for  interrupting  her  with  so  many  teasing  questions. 

In  another  such  case,  the  mother,  on  hearing  the  ques 
tion,  pauses  long  enough  to  look  kindly  and  with  a  smile  of 
encouragement  upon  her  face  towards  Johnny,  and  to  say 
simply,  "  The  sun,"  and  then  goes  on  with  her  conversation. 
Johnny  says  "  Oh !"  in  a  tone  of  satisfaction.  It  is  a  new 
and  grand  idea  to  him  that  the  sun  makes  the  rainbow,  and 
it  is  enough  to  fill  his  mind  with  contemplation  for  several 
minutes,  during  which  his  parents  go  on  without  interrup 
tion  in  their  talk.  Presently  Johnny  asks  again, 

"  Mother,  how  does  the  sun  make  the  rainbow  ?" 

His  mother  answers  in  the  same  way  as  before,  "By 
shining  on  the  cloud;"  and,  leaving  that  additional  idea 
for  Johnny  to  reflect  upon  and  receive  fully  into  his  mind, 
turns  again  to  her  husband  and  resumes  her  conversation 
with  him  after  a  scarcely  perceptible  interruption. 

Johnny,  after  having  reflected  in  silence  some  minutes, 
during  which  he  has  looked  at  the  sun  and  at  the  rainbow, 
and  observed  that  the  cloud  on  which  the  arch  is  formed  is 
exactly  opposite  to  the  sun,  and  fully  exposed  to  his  beams, 
is  prepared  for  another  step,  and  asks, 


258  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

"  Mother,  how  docs  the  sun  make  a  rainbow  by  shining 
on  the  cloud  ?" 

His  mother  replies  that  it  shines  on  millions  of  little 
drops  of  rain  in  the  cloud,  and  makes  them  of  all  colors, 
like  drops  of  dew  on  the  ground,  and  all  the  colors  togeth 
er  make  the  rainbow. 

Here  arc  images  presented  to  Johnny's  mind  enough  to 
occupy  his  thoughts  for  a  considerable  interval,  when  per 
haps  he  will  have  another  question  still,  to  be  answered  by 
an  equally  short  and  simple  reply ;  though,  probably,  by 
this  time  his  curiosity  will  have  become  satisfied  in  respect 
to  his  subject  of  inquiry,  and  his  attention  will  have  been 
arrested  by  some  other  object. 

To  answer  the  child's  questions  in  this  way  is  so  easy, 
and  the  pauses  which  the  answers  lead  to  on  the  part  of  the 
questioner  are  usually  so  long,  that  very  little  serious  inter 
ruption  is  occasioned  by  them  to  any  of  the  ordinary  pur 
suits  in  which  a  mother  is  engaged;  and  the  little  interrup 
tion  which  is  caused  is  greatly  overbalanced  by  the  pleas 
ure  which  the  mother  will  experience  in  witnessing  the 
gratification  and  improvement  of  the  child,  if  she  really 
loves  him,  and  is  seriously  interested  in  the  development  of 
his  thinking  and  reasoning  powers. 

Answers  should  attempt  to  communicate  but  little  Instruc 
tion. 

3.  The  answers  which  are  given  to  children  should  not 
only  be  short  and  simple  in  form,  but  each  one  should  be 
studiously  designed  to  communicate  as  small  an  amount  of 
information  as  possible. 

This  may  seem,  at  first  view,  a  strange  idea,  but  the  im 
port  of  it  simply  is  that,  in  giving  the  child  his  intellectual 
nourishment,  you  must  act  as  you  do  in  respect  to  his  bod 
ily  food — that  is,  divide  what  he  is  to  receive  into  small 


CHILDREN'S  QUESTION.  301 

portions,  and  administer  a  little  at  a  time.  If  you  give  him 
too  much  at  once  in  either  case,  you  are  in  danger  of  chok 
ing  him. 

For  example,  Johnny  asks  some  morning  in  the  early 
winter,  when  the  first  snow  is  falling,  and  he  has  been 
watching  it  for  some  time  from  the  window  in  wonder  and 
delight,  "Mother,  what  makes  it  snow?"  Now,  if  the 
mother  imagines  that  she  must  give  any  thing  like  a  full 
answer  to  the  question,  her  attention  must  be  distracted 
from  her  work  to  enable  her  to  frame  it;  and  if  she  does 
not  give  up  the  attempt  altogether,  and  rebuke  the  boy  for 
teasing  her  with  "  so  many  silly  questions,"  she  perhaps  sus 
pends  her  work,  and,  after  a  moment's  perplexing  thought, 
she  says  the  vapor  of  the  water  from  the  rivers  and  seas 
and  damp  ground  rises  into  the  air,  and  there  at  last  con 
geals  into  flakes  of  snow,  and  these  fall  through  the  air  to 
the  ground. 

The  boy  listens  and  attempts  to  understand  the  explana 
tion,  but  he  is  bewildered  and  lost  in  the  endeavor  to  take 
in  at  once  this  extended  and  complicated  process — one 
which  is,  moreover,  not  only  extended  and  complicated,  but 
which  is  composed  of  elements  all  of  which  are  entirely 
new  to  him. 

If  the  mother,  however,  should  act  on  the  principle  of 
communicating  as  small  a  portion  of  the  information  re 
quired  as  it  is  possible  to  give  in  one  answer,  Johnny's  in 
quiry  would  lead,  probably,  to  a  conversation  somewhat  like 
the  following,  the  answers  on  the  part  of  the  mother  being  so 
short  and  simple  as  to  require  no  perceptible  thought  on  her 
part,  and  so  occasioning  no  serious  interruption  to  her  work, 
unless  it  should  be  something  requiring  special  attention. 

"Mother,"  asks  Johnny,  "what  makes  it  snow?" 

"  It  is  the  snow-flakes  coming  down  out  of  the  sky,"  says 
his  mother.  "  Watch  them  !" 


26J  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

"  Oil !"  pays  Johnny,  uttering  the  child's  little  exclama 
tion  of  satisfaction.  He  looks  at  the  flakes  as  they  fall, 
catching  one  after  another  with  his  eye,  and  following  it  in 
its  meandering  descent.  He  will,  perhaps,  occupy  himself 
several  minutes  in  silence  and  profound  attention,  in  bring 
ing  fully  to  his  mind  the  idea  that  a  snow-storm  consists  of 
a  mass  of  descending  flakes  of  snow  falling  through  the  air. 
To  us,  who  are  familiar  with  this  fact,  it  seems  nothing  to 
observe  this,  but  to  him  the  analyzing  of  the  phenomenon, 
which  before  he  had  looked  upon  as  one  grand  spectacle 
filling  the  whole  sky,  and  only  making  an  impression  on  his 
mind  by  its  general  effect,  and  resolving  it  into  its  element 
al  parts  of  individual  flakes  fluttering  down  through  the  air, 
is  a  great  step.  It  is  a  step  which  exercises  his  nascent 
powers  of  observation  and  reflection  very  deeply,  and  gives 
him  full  occupation  for  quite  a  little  interval  of  time.  At 
length,  when  he  has  familiarized  himself  with  this  idea,  he 
asks  again,  perhaps, 

"Where  do  the  flakes  come  from,  mother?" 

"  Out  of  the  sky." 

"  Oh !"  says  Johnny  again,  for  the  moment  entirely  sat 
isfied. 

One  mi^ht  at  first  think  that  these  words  would  be  al- 

O 

most  unmeaning,  or,  at  least,  that  they  would  give  the  little 
questioner  no  real  information.  But  they  do  give  him  in 
formation  that  is  both  important  and  novel.  They  advance 
him  one  step  in  his  inquiry.  Out  of  the  sky  means,  to  him, 
from  a  great  height.  The  words  give  him  to  understand 
that  the  flakes  are  not  formed  where  they  first  come  inttf 
his  view,  but  that  they  descend  from  a  higher  region.  Af 
ter  reflecting  on  this  idea  a  moment,  he  asks,  we  will  sup 
pose, 

"  How  high  in  the  sky,  mother  ?" 

Now,  perhaps,  a  mother  might  think  that  there  was  no 


CHILDREN'S  QUESTIONS.  263 

possible  answer  to  be  given  to  such  a  question  as  this  ex 
cept  that  "she  does  not  know;"  inasmuch  as  few  persons 
have  any  accurate  ideas  of  the  elevation  in  the  atmosphere 
at  which  snow-clouds  usually  form.  But  this  accurate  in 
formation  is  not  what  the  child  requires.  If  the  mother 
possessed  it,  it  would  be  useless  for  her  to  attempt  to  com 
municate  it  to  him.  In  the  sense  in  which  he  asks  the 
question  she  does  understand  it,  and  can  give  him  a  perfect 
ly  satisfactory  answer. 

"  How  high  is  it  in  the  sky,  mother,  to  where  the  snow 
comes  from  ?"  asks  the  child. 

"  Oh,  very  high — higher  than  the  top  of  the  house,"  re 
plies  the  mother. 

"As  high  as  the  top  of  the  chimney?" 

"  Yes,  higher  than  that." 

"As  high  as  the  moon?" 

"  No,  not  so  high  as  the  moon." 

"How  high  is  it  then,  mother?" 

"  About  as  high  as  birds  can  fly." 

"  Oh  !"  says  Johnny,  perfectly  satisfied. 

The  answer  is  somewhat  indefinite,  it  is  true,  but  its  in- 
definiteness  is  the  chief  element  in  the  value  of  it.  A  defi 
nite  and  precise  answer,  even  if  one  of  that  character  were 
ready  at  hand,  would  be  utterly  inappropriate  to  the  occasion. 

An  Answer  may  even  be  good  which  gives  no  Informa 
tion  at  all. 

4.  It  is  not  even  always  necessary  that  an  answer  to  a 
child's  question  should  convey  any  information  at  all.  A 
little  conversation  on  the  subject  of  the  inquiry,  giving  the 
child  an  opportunity  to  hear  and  to  use  language  in  respect 
to  it,  is  often  all  that  is  required. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  power  to  express 
thoughts,  or  to  represent  external  objects  by  language,  rs 


ittl  VEXTLE  MEASU&ES. 

a  new  power  to  young  children,  and,  like  all  other  new  pow 
ers,  the  mere  exercise  of  it  gives  great  pleasure.  If  a  per 
son  in  full  health  and  vigor  were  suddenly  to  acquire  the 
art  of  flying,  he  would  take  great  pleasure  in  moving,  by 
means  of  his  wings,  through  the  air  from  one  high  point  to 
another,  not  because  he  had  any  object  in  visiting  those 
high  points,  but  because  it  would  give  him  pleasure  to  find 
that  he  could  do  so,  and  to  exercise  his  newly  acquired 
power.  So  with  children  in  their  talk.  They  talk  often, 
perhaps  generally,  for  the  sake  of  the  pleasure  of  talking, 
not  for  the  sake  of  what  they  have  to  say.  So,  if  you  will 
only  talk  with  them  and  allow  them  to  talk  to  you  about 
any  thing  that  interests  them,  they  arc  pleased,  whether  you 
communicate  to  them  any  new  information  or  not.  This 
single  thought,  once  fully  understood  by  a  mother,  will  save 
her  a  great  deal  of  trouble  in  answering  the  incessant  ques 
tions  of  her  children.  The  only  essential  thing  in  many 
cases  is  to  say  something  in  reply  to  the  question,  no  mat 
ter  whether  what  you  say  communicates  any  information 
or  not. 

If  a  child  asks,  for  instance,  Avhat  makes  the  stars  shine 
so,  and  his  mother  answers,  "  Because  they  are  so  bright," 
he  will  be  very  likely  to  be  as  well  satisfied  as  if  she  at 
tempted  to  give  a  philosophical  explanation  of  the  phenom 
enon.  So,  if  he  asks  what  makes  him  see  himself  in  the 
looking-glass,  she  may  answer,  "  You  see  an  image  of  your 
self  there.  They  call  it  an  image.  Hold  up  a  book  and 
see  if  you  can  see  an  image  of  that  in  the  glass  too."  He 
is  pleased  and  satisfied.  Nor  are  such  answers  useless,  as 
might  at  first  be  supposed.  They  give  the  child  practice 
in  the  use  of  language,  and,  if  properly  managed,  they  may 
be  made  the  means  of  greatly  extending  his  knowledge  of 
language  and,  by  necessary  consequence,  of  the  ideas  and 
realities  which  language  represents. 


CHILDREN'S  QUESTIONS.  CC5 

"Father,"  says  Mary,  as  she  is  walking  with  her  father 
in  the  garden,  "  what  makes  some  roses  white  and  some 
red?"  "It  is  very  curious,  is  it  not?"  says  her  father. 
"  Yes,  father,  it  is  very  curious  indeed.  What  makes  it 
so  ?"  "  There  must  be  some  cause  for  it,"  says  her  father. 
"  And  the  apples  that  grow  on  some  trees  are  sweet,  and  on 
others  they  are  sour.  That  is  curious  too."  "  Yes,  very 
curious  indeed,"  says  Mary.  "  The  leaves  of  trees  seem  to 
be  always  green,"  continues  her  father, "  though  the  flowers 
are  of  various  colors."  "  Yes,  father,"  says  Mary.  "  Ex 
cept,"  adds  her  father, "  when  they  turn  yellow,  and  red, 
and  brown,  in  the  fall  of  the  year." 

A  conversation  like  this,  without  attempting  any  thing 
like  an  answer  to  the  question  with  which  it  commenced,  is 
as  satisfactory  to  the  child,  and  perhaps  as  useful  in  devel 
oping  its  powers  and  increasing  its  knowledge  of  language, 
as  any  attempt  to  explain  the  phenomenon  would  be ;  and 
the  knowledge  of  this  will  make  it  easy  for  the  mother  to 
dispose  of  many  a  question  which  might  seriously  interrupt 
her  if  she  conceived  it  necessary  either  to  attempt  a  satisfac 
tory  explanation  of  the  difficulty,  or  not  to  answer  it  at  all. 

Be  always  ready  to  say  "Idorft  know" 
5.  The  mother  should  be  always  ready  and  willing  to  say 
"  I  don't  know,"  in  answer  to  children's  questions. 

Parents  and  teachers  are  very  often  somewhat  averse  to 
this,  lest,  by  often  confessing  their  own  ignorance,  they 
should  lower  themselves  in  the  estimation  of  their  pupils 
or  their  children.  So  they  feel  bound  to  give  some  kind  of 
an  explanation  to  every  difficulty,  in  hopes  that  it  may  sat 
isfy  the  inquirer,  though  it  does  not  satisfy  themselves. 
But  this  is  a  great  mistake.  The  sooner  that  pupils  and 
children  understand  that  the  field  of  knowledge  is  utterly 
boundless,  and  that  it  is  only  a  very  small  portion  of  it  that 

M 


2G6  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

their  superiors  in  age  and  attainment  have  yet  explored, 
the  better  for  all  concerned.  The  kind  of  superiority,  in 
the  estimation  of  children,  which  it  is  chiefly  desirable  to 
attain,  consists  in  their  always  finding  that  the  explanation 
which  we  give,  whenever  we  attempt  any,  is  clear,  fair,  and 
satisfactory,  not  in  our  being  always  ready  to  offer  an  ex 
planation,  whether  satisfactory  or  not. 

Questions  on  Religious  Subjects. 

The  considerations  presented  in  this  chapter  relate  chief 
ly  to  the  questions  which  children  ask  in  respect  to  what 
they  observe  taking  place  around  them  in  external  nature. 
There  is  another  class  of  questions  and  difficulties  which 
they  raise — namely,  those  that  relate  to  religious  and  moral 
subjects;  and  to  these  I  have  not  intended  now  to  refer. 
The  inquiries  which  children  make  on  these  subjects  arise, 
in  a  great  measure,  from  the  false  and  puerile  conceptions 
which  they  arc  so  apt  to  form  in  respect  to  spiritual  things, 
and  from  which  they  deduce  all  sorts  of  absurdities.  The 
false  conceptions  in  which  their  difficulties  originate  are 
due  partly  to  errors  and  imperfections  in  our  modes  of 
teaching  them  on  these  subjects,  and  partly  to  the  imma 
turity  of  their  powers,  which  incapacitates  them  from 
clearly  comprehending  any  elements  of  thought  that  lie 
beyond  the  direct  cognizance  of  the  senses.  We  shall, 
however,  have  occasion  to  refer  to  this  subject  in  another 
chapter. 

In  respect,  however,  to  all  that  class  of  questions  which 
children  ask  in  relation  to  the  visible  world  around  them, 
the  principles  here  explained  may  render  the  mother  some 
aid  in  her  intercourse  with  the  little  learners  under  her 
charge,  if  she  clearly  understands  and  intelligently  applies 
them.  And  she  will  find  the  practice  of  holding  frequent 
conversations  with  them,  in  these  ways,  a  source  of  great 


CHILDREN'S  QUESTIONS.  267 

pleasure  to  her,1  as  well  as  of  unspeakable  advantage  to 
them.  Indeed,  the  conversation  of  a  kind  and  intelligent 
mother  is  far  the  most  valuable  and  important  means  of 
education  for  a  child  during  many  years  of  its  early  life. 
A  boy  whose  mother  is  pleased  to  have  him  near  her,  who 
likes  to  hear  and  answer  his  questions,  to  watch  the  grad 
ual  development  of  his  thinking  and  reasoning  powers,  and 
to  enlarge  and  extend  his  knowledge  of  language  —  thus 
necessarily  and  of  course  expanding  the  range  and  scope 
of  his  ideas — will  find  that  though  his  studies,  strictly  so 
called — that  is,  his  learning  to  read,  and  the  committing  to 
memory  lessons  from  books — may  be  deferred,  yet,  when 
he  finally  commences  them  he  will  go  at  once  to  the  head 
of  his  classes  at  school,  through  the  superior  strength  and 
ampler  development  which  his  mental  powers  will  have 
attained. 


GENTLE  MEASURES. 


CHAPTER  XX, 

THE  USE  OF  MONEY. 

THE  money  question  in  the  management  and  training  of 
children  has  a  distinct  bearing  on  the  subjects  of  some  of 
the  preceding  chapters.  It  is  extremely  important,  first,  in 
respect  to  opportunities  which  are  afforded  in  connection 
with  the  use  of  money  for  cultivating  and  developing  the 
qualities  of  sound  judgment  and  of  practical  wisdom ;  and 
then,  in  the  second  place,  the  true  course  to  be  pursued 
with  them  in  respect  to  money  forms  a  special  point  to  bo 
considered  in  its  bearing  upon  the  subject  of  the  proper 
mode  of  dealing  with  their  wishes  and  requests. 

Evil  Results  of  a  very  Common  Method. 

If  a  parent  wishes  to  eradicate  from  the  mind  of  his  boy 
all  feelings  of  delicacy  and  manly  pride,  to  train  him  to  the 
habit  of  obtaining  what  he  wants  by  importunity  or  servil 
ity,  and  to  prevent  his  having  any  means  of  acquiring  any 
practical  knowledge  of  the  right  use  of  money,  any  princi 
ples  of  economy,  or  any  of  that  forethought  and  thrift  so 
essential  to  sure  prosperity  in  future  life,  the  best  way  to 
accomplish  these  ends  would  seem  to  be  to  have  no  system 
in  supplying  him  with  money  in  his  boyish  days,  but  to 
give  it  to  him  only  when  he  asks  for  it,  and  in  quantities 
determined  only  by  the  frequency  and  importunity  of  his 
calls. 

Of  course  under  such  a  system  the  boy  has  no  induce 
ment  to  take  care  of  his  money,  to  form  any  plans  of  ex 
penditure,  to  make  any  calculations,  to  practise  self-denial 


THE  USE  OF  MONEY.  269 

to-day  for  the  sake  of  a  greater  good  to-morrow.  The 
source  of  supply  from  which  he  draws  money,  fitful  and 
uncertain  as  it  may  be  in  what  it  yields  to  him,  he  consid 
ers  unlimited ;  and  as  the  amount  which  he  can  draw  from 
it  does  not  depend  at  all  upon  his  frugality,  his  foresight, 
or  upon  any  incipient  financial  skill  that  he  may  exercise, 
but  solely  upon  his  adroitness  in  coaxing,  or  his  persistence 
in  importunity,  it  is  the  group  of  bad  qualities,  and  not  the 
good,  which  such  management  tends  to  foster.  The  effect 
of  such  a  system  is,  in  other  words,  not  to  encourage  the 
development  and  growth  of  those  qualities  on  which  thrift 
and  forehandedness  in  the  management  of  his  affairs  in  fu 
ture  life,  and,  in  consequence,  his  success  and  prosperity, 
depend ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  to  cherish  the  growth  of  all 
the  mean  and  ignoble  propensities  of  human  nature  by  ac 
customing  him,  so  far  as  relates  to  this  subject,  to  gain  his 
ends  by  the  arts  of  a  sycophant,  or  by  rude  pertinacity. 

Not  that  this  system  always  produces  these  results.  It 
may  be,  and  perhaps  generally  is,  greatly  modified  by  other 
influences  acting  upon  the  mind  of  the  child  at  the  same 
time,  as  well  as  by  the  natural  tendencies  of  the  boy's  char 
acter,  and  by  the  character  and  general  influence  upon  him 
of  his  father  and  mother  in  other  respects.  It  can  not  be 
denied,  however,  that  the  above  is  the  tendency  of  a  system 
which  makes  a  boy's  income  of  spending-money  a  matter 
of  mere  chance,  on  which  no  calculations  can  be  founded, 
except  so  far  as  he  can  increase  it  by  adroit  manoeuvring  or 
by  asking  for  it  directly,  with  more  or  less  of  urgency  or 
persistence,  as  the  case  may  require;  that  is  to  say,  by  pre 
cisely  those  means  which  are  the  most  ignoble  and  most 
generally  despised  by  honorably-minded  men  as  means  for 
the  attainment  of  any  human  end. 

Now  one  of  the  most  important  parts  of  the  education 
of  both  girls  and  boys,  whether  they  are  to  inherit  riches, 


270  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

or  to  enjoy  a  moderate  income  from  the  fruits  of  their  own 
industry,  or  to  spend  their  lives  in  extreme  poverty,  is  to 
teach  them  the  proper  management  and  use  of  money. 
And  this  may  be  very  effectually  done  by  giving  them  a 
fixed  and  definite  income  to  manage,  and  then  throwing 
upon  them  the  responsibility  of  the  management  of  it,  with 
such  a  degree  of  guidance,  encouragement,  and  aid  as  a 
parent  can  easily  render. 

Objection  to  the  Plan  of  a  regular  Allowance. 

There  arc  no  parents  among  those  who  will  be  likely  to 
read  this  book  of  resources  so  limited  that  they  will  not, 
from  time  to  time,  allow  their  children  some  amount  of 
spending-money  in  a  year.  All  that  is  necessary,  therefore, 
is  to  appropriate  to  them  this  amount  and  pay  it  to  them, 
or  credit  them  with  it,  in  a  business-like  and  regular  man 
ner.  It  is  true  that  by  this  system  the  children  will  soon 
begin  to  regard  their  monthly  or  wreekly  allowance  as  their 
due ;  and  the  parent  will  lose  the  pleasure,  if  it  is  any 
pleasure  to  him  or  her,  of  having  the  money  which  they 
give  them  regarded  in  each  case  as  a  present,  and  received 
with  a  sense  of  obligation.  This  is  sometimes  considered 
an  objection  to  this  plan.  "When  I  furnish  my  children 
with  money,"  says  the  parent,  "  as  a  gratification,  I  wrish  to 
have  the  pleasure  of  giving  it  to  them.  Whereas,  on  this 
proposed  plan  of  paying  it  to  them  regularly  at  stated  in 
tervals,  they  will  come  to  consider  each  payment  as  simply 
the  payment  of  a  debt.  I  wish  them  to  consider  it  as  a 
gratuity  on  my  part,  so  that  it  may  awaken  gratitude  and 
renew  their  love  for  me." 

There  is  some  seeming  force  in  this  objection,  though  it 
is  true  that  the  adoption  of  the  plan  of  a  systematic  appro 
priation,  as  here  recommended,  does  not  prevent  the  mak 
ing  of  presents  of  money,  or  of  any  thing  else,  to  the  chil- 


THE  USE  OF  MONEY.  271 

drcii,  whenever  either  parent  desires  to  do  so.  Still  the 
plan  will  not  generally  be  adopted,  except  by  parents  in 
whose  minds  the  laying  of  permanent  foundations  for  their 
children's  welfare  and  happiness  through  life,  by  training 
them  from  their  earliest  years  to  habits  of  forecast  and  thrift, 
and  the  exercise  of  judgment  and  skill  in  the  management 
of  money,  is  entirely  paramount  to  any  petty  sentimental 
gratification  to  themselves,  while  the  children  are  young. 

Tico  Methods. 

In  case  the  parent — it  may  be  either  the  father  or  the 
mother — decides  to  adopt  the  plan  of  appropriating  sys 
tematically  and  regularly  a  certain  sum  to  be  at  the  dispos 
al  of  the  child,  there  are  two  modes  by  which  the  business 
may  be  transacted — one  by  paying  over  the  money  itself  in 
the  amounts  and  at  the  stated  periods  determined  upon, 
and  the  other  by  opening  an  account  with  the  child,  and 
giving  him  credit  from  time  to  time  for  the  amount  due, 
charging  on  the  other  side  the  amounts  which  he  draws. 

1.  Paying  the  money.  This  is  the  simplest  plan.  If  it 
is  adopted,  the  money  must  be  ready  and  be  paid  at  the 
appointed  time  with  the  utmost  exactitude  and  certainty. 
Having  made  the  arrangement  with  a  child  that  he  is  to 
have  a  certain  sum — six  cents,  twelve  cents,  twenty-five 
cents,  or  more,  as  the  case  may  be — every  Saturday  night, 
the  mother — if  it  is  the  mother  who  has  charge  of  the  ex 
ecution  of  the  plan — must  consider  it  a  sacred  debt,  and 
must  be  always  ready.  She  can  not  expect  that  her  chil 
dren  will  learn  regularity,  punctuality,  and  system  in  the 
management  of  their  money  affairs,  if  she  sets  them  the  ex 
ample  of  laxity  and  forgetfulness  in  fulfilling  her  engage 
ments,  and  offering  excuses  for  non-payment  when  the  time 
comes,  instead  of  having  the  money  ready  when  it  is  due. 
The  money,  when  paid,  should  not,  in  general,  be  carried  by 


27:3  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

the  children  about  the  person,  but  they  should  be  provided 
with  a  purse  or  other  safe  receptacle,  which,  however, 
should  be  entirely  in  their  custody,  and  so  exposed  to  all 
the  accidents  to  which  any  carelessness  in  the  custody 
would  expose  it.  The  mother  must  remember  that  the 
very  object  of  the  plan  is  to  have  the  children  learn  by  ex 
perience  to  take  care  of  money  themselves,  and  that  she  de 
feats  that  object  by  virtually  relieving  them  of  this  care. 
It  should,  therefore,  be  paid  to  them  with  the  greatest 
punctuality,  especially  at  the  first  introduction  of  the  sys 
tem,  and  with  the  distinct  understanding  that  the  charge 
and  care  of  keeping  it  devolves  entirely  upon  them  from 
the  time  of  its  passing  into  their  hands. 

2.  Opening  an  account.  The  second  plan,  and  one  that 
will  prove  much  the  most  satisfactory  in  its  working — 
though  many  mothers  will  shrink  from  it  on  the  ground 
that  it  would  make  them  a  great  deal  of  trouble — is  to  keep 
an  account.  For  this  purpose  a  small  book  should  be  made, 
with  as  many  leaves  as  there  arc  children,  so  that  for  each 
account  there  can  be  two  pages.  The  book  should  be  ruled 
for  accounts,  and  the  name  of  each  child  should  be  entered 
at  the  head  of  the  two  pages  appropriated  to  his  account. 
Then,  from  time  to  time,  the  amount  of  his  allowance  that 
lias  fallen  due  should  be  entered  on  the  credit  side,  and  any 
payment  made  to  him  on  the  other. 

The  plan  of  keeping  an  account  in  this  way  obviates  the 
necessity  of  paying  money  at  stated  times,  for  the  account 
will  show  at  any  time  how  much  is  due. 

There  are  some  advantages  in  each  of  these  modes. 
Much  depends  on  the  age  of  the  children,  and  still  more 
upon  the  facilities  which  the  father  or  mother  have  at  hand 
for  making  entries  in  writing.  To  a  man  of  business,  ac 
customed  to  accounts,  \vho  could  have  a  book  made  small 
enough  to  go  into  his  wallet,  or  to  a  mother  who  is  system- 


THE  USE  OF  MONEY.  273 

atic  in  her  habits,  and  has  in  her  work-table  or  her  secre 
tary  facilities  for  writing  at  any  time,  the  plan  of  opening 
an  account  will  be  found  much  the  best.  It  will  afford  an 
opportunity  of  giving  the  children  a  great  deal  of  useful 
knowledge  in  respect  to  account-keeping — or,  rather,  by  ha 
bituating  them  from  an  early  age  to  the  management  of 
their  affairs  in  this  systematic  manner,  will  train  them  from 
the  beginning  to  habits  of  system  and  exactness.  A  very 
perceptible  effect  in  this  direction  will  be  produced  on  the 
minds  of  children,  even  while  they  have  not  yet  learned  to 
read,  and  so  can  not  understand  at  all  the  written  record 
made  of  their  pecuniary  transactions.  They  will,  at  any 
rate,  understand  that  a  written  record  is  made;  they  will 
take  a  certain  pride  and  pleasure  in  it,  and  impressions  will 
be  produced  which  may  have  an  effect  upon  their  habits  of 
accuracy  and  system  in  their  pecuniary  transactions  through 
all  future  life. 

Interest  on  Balances. 

One  great  advantage  of  the  plan  of  having  an  account 
over  that  of  paying  cash  at  stated  times  is,  that  it  affords 
an  opportunity  for  the  father  or  mother  to  allow  interest 
for  any  balances  left  from  time  to  time  in  their  hands,  so  as 
to  initiate  the  children  into  a  knowledge  of  the  nature  and 
the  advantages  of  productive  investments,  and  familiarize 
them  with  the  idea  that  money  reserved  has  within  it  a 
principle  of  increase.  The  interest  allowed  should  be  alto 
gether  greater  than  the  regular  rate,  so  as  to  make  the  ad 
vantage  of  it  in  the  case  of  such  small  sums  appreciable  to 
the  children — but  not  too  great.  Some  judgment  and  dis 
cretion  must  be  exercised  on  this  as  on  all  other  points  con 
nected  with  the  system. 

The  arrangements  for  the  keeping  of  an  account  being 
made,  and  the  account  opened,  there  is,  of  course,  no  neces- 

M2 


274  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

sity,  as  in  the  case  of  payments  made  simply  in  cash,  that 
the  business  should  be  transacted  at  stated  times.  At  any 
time  when  convenient,  the  entry  may  be  made  of  the  amount 
which  has  become  due  since  the  time  of  the  last  entry. 
And  when,  from  time  to  time,  the  child  wishes  for  money, 
the  parent  will  look  at  his  account  and  see  if  there  is  a  bal 
ance  to  his  credit.  If  there  is,  the  child  will  be  entitled  to 
receive  whatever  he  desires  up  to  the  amount  of  the  bal 
ance.  Once  in  a  month,  or  at  any  other  times  when  con 
venient,  the  account  can  be  settled,  and  the  balance,  with 
the  accrued  interest,  carried  to  a  new  account. 

All  this,  instead  of  being  a  trouble,  will  only  be  a  source 
of  interest  and  pleasure  to  the  parent,  as  well  as  to  the 
children  themselves,  and,  without  occupying  any  sensible 
portion  of  time,  will  be  the  means  of  gradually  communi 
cating  a  great  deal  of  very  useful  instruction. 

Employment  of  the  Money. 

It  wrill  have  a  great  eft'cct  in  "  training  up  children  in  the 
way  in  which  they  should  go,"  in  respect  to  the  employ 
ment  of  money,  if  a  rule  is  made  for  them  that  a  certain 
portion,  one -quarter  or  one -half,  for  example,  of  all  the 
money  which  comes  into  their  possession,  both  from  their 
regular  allowance  and  from  gratuities,  is  to  be  laid  aside 
as  a  permanent  investment,  and  an  account  at  some  Sav 
ings  Bank  be  opened,  or  some  other  formal  mode  of  plac 
ing  it  be  adopted — the  bank-book  or  other  documentary 
evidence  of  the  amount  «o  laid  up  to  be  deposited  among 
the  child's  treasures. 

In  respect  to  the  other  portion  of  the  money — namely, 
that  which  is  to  be  employed  by  the  children  themselves 
as  spending-money,  the  disbursement  of  it  should  be  left 
entirely  at  their  discretion,  subject  only  to  the  restriction 
that  they  are  not  to  buy  any  thing  that  will  be  injurious 


THE   USE  OF  MONEY.  275 

or  dangerous  to  themselves,  or  a  means  of  disturbance  or 
annoyance  to  others.  The  mother  may  give  them  any  in 
formation  or  any  counsel  in  regard  to  the  employment  of 
their  money,  provided  she  does  not  do  it  in  the  form  of 
expressing  any  wish9  on  her  part,  in  regard  to  it.  For  the 
very  object  of  the  whole  plan  is  to  bring  out  into  action, 
and  thus  to  develop  and  strengthen,  the  judgment  and  dis 
cretion  of  the  child ;  and  just  as  children  can  not  learn  to 
walk  by  always  being  carried,  so  they  can  not  learn  to  be 
good  managers  without  having  the  responsibility  of  actual 
management,  on  a  scale  adapted  to  their  years,  thrown  real 
ly  upon  them.  If  a  boy  wishes  to  buy  a  bow  and  arrow,  it 
may  in  some  cases  be  right  not  to  give  him  permission  to 
do  it,  on  account  of  the  danger  accompanying  the  use  of 
such  a  plaything.  But  if  he  wishes  to  buy  a  kite  which 
the  mother  is  satisfied  is  too  large  for  him  to  manage,  or 
if  she  thinks  there  are  so  many  trees  about  the  house  that 
he  can  not  prevent  its  getting  entangled  in  them,  she  must 
not  object  to  it  on  that  account.  She  can  explain  these 
dangers  to  the  boy,  if  he  is  inclined  to  listen,  but  not  in  a 
way  to  show  that  she  herself  wishes  him  not  to  buy  the 
kite.  "  Those  are  the  difficulties  which  you  may  meet 
with,"  she  may  say,  "  but  you  may  buy  the  kite  if  you 
think  best." 

Then  when  he  meets  with  the  difficulties,  when  he  finds 
that  he  can  not  manage  the  kite,  or  that  he  loses  it  among 
the  trees,  she  must  not  triumph  over  him,  and  say,  "  I  told 
you  how  it  would  be.  You  would  not  take  my  advice,  and 
now  you  see  how  it  is."  On  the  contrary,  she  must  help 
him,  and  try  to  alleviate  his  disappointment,  saying,  "  Nev 
er  mind.  It  is  a  loss,  certainly.  But  you  did  what  you 
thought  was  best  at  the  time,  and  we  all  meet  with  losses 
sometimes,  even  when  we  have  done  what  we  thought  was 
best.  You  will  make  a  great  many  other  mistakes,  proba- 


276  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

bly,  hereafter  in  spending  money,  and  meet  with  losses ; 
and  this  one  will  give  you  an  opportunity  of  learning  to 
bear  them  like  a  man." 

The  most  implicit  Faith  to  be  kept  with  Children  in 
Money  Transactions. 

I  will  not  say  that  a  father,  if  he  is  a  man  of  business, 
ought  to  be  as  jealous  of  his  credit  with  his  children  as  he 
is  of  his  credit  at  the  bank  ;  but  I  think,  if  he  takes  a  right 
view  of  the  subject,  he  will  be  extremely  sensitive  in  re 
spect  to  both.  If  he  is  a  man  of  high  and  honorable  sen 
timents,  and  especially  if  he  looks  forward  to  future  years 
when  his  children  shall  have  arrived  at  maturity,  or  shall 
be  approaching  towards  it,  and  sees  how  important  and 
how  delicate  the  pecuniary  relations  between  himself  and 
them  may  be  at  that  time,  he  will  feel  the  importance  of 
beginning  by  establishing,  at  the  very  commencement,  not 
only  by  means  of  precept,  but  by  example,  a  habit  of  pre 
cise,  systematic,  and  scrupulous  exactitude  in  the  fulfillment 
of  every  pecuniary  obligation.  It  is  not  necessary  that  he 
should  do  any  thing  mean  or  small  in  his  dealings  with 
them  in  order  to  accomplish  this  end.  He  may  be  as  lib 
eral  and  as  generous  with  them  in  many  ways  as  he  pleases, 
but  he  must  keep  his  accounts  with  them  correctly.  Ho 
must  always,  without  any  demurring  or  any  excuse,  be 
ready  to  fulfill  his  engagements,  and  teach  them  to  fulfill 
theirs. 

Possible  Mange  of  Transactions  between  Parents  and 
Children. 

The  parent,  after  having  initiated  his  children  into  the 
regular  transaction  of  business  by  his  mode  of  managing 
their  allowance-fund,  may  very  advantageously  extend  the 
benefits  of  the  system  by  engaging  with  them  from  time  to 


THE  USE  OF  MONEY.  277 

time  in  other  affairs,  to  bo  regulated  in  a  business-like  and 
systematic  manner.  For  example,  if  one  of  his  boys  has 
been  reserving  a  portion  of  his  spending-money  as  a  watch- 
fund,  and  has  already  half  enough  for  the  purchase,  the 
father  may  offer  to  lend  him  the  balance  and  take  a  mort 
gage  of  the  watch,  to  stand  until  the  boy  shall  have  taken 
it  up  out  of  future  savings;  and  he  can  make  out  a  mort 
gage-deed  expressing  in  a  few  and  simple  words  the  fact 
that  the  watch  is  pledged  to  him  as  security  for  the  sum 
advanced,  and  is  not  to  become  the  absolute  property  of 
the  boy  till  the  money  for  which  it  is  pledged  is  paid.  In 
the  course  of  years,  a  great  number  of  transactions  in  this 
way  may  take  place  between  the  father  or  mother  and  their 
boy,  each  of  which  will  not  only  be  a  source  of  interest  and 
enjoyment  to  both  parties,  but  will  afford  the  best  possible 
means  of  imparting,  not  only  to  the  child  directly  interested 
in  them,  but  to  the  other  children,  a  practical  knowledge  of 
financial  transactions,  and  of  forming  in  them  the  habit  of 
conducting  all  their  affairs  in  a  systematic  and  business-like 
manner. 

The  number  and  variety  of  such  transactions  in  which 
the  modes  of  doing  business  among  men  may  be  imitated 
with  children,  greatly  to  their  enjoyment  and  interest,  is 
endless.  I  could  cite  an  instance  when  wrhat  was  called  a 
bank  was  in  operation  for  many  years  among  a  certain 
number  of  children,  with  excellent  effect.  One  was  ap 
pointed  president,  another  cashier,  another  paying  -  teller. 
There  was  a  ledger  under  the  charge  of  the  cashier,  with  a 
list  of  stockholders,  and  the  number  of  shares  held  by  each, 
which  was  in  proportion  to  the  respective  ages  of  the  chil 
dren.  The  bank  building  was  a  little  toy  secretary,  some 
thing  in  the  form  of  a  safe,  into  which  there  mysteriously 
appeared,  from  time  to  time,  small  sums  of  money ;  the 
stockholders  being  as  ignorant  of  the  source  from  which 


278  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

the  profits  of  the  bank  were  derived  as  most  stockholders 
probably  are  in  the  case  of  larger  and  more  serious  insti 
tutions.  Once  in  six  months,  or  at  other  periods,  the  mon 
ey  was  counted,  a  dividend  was  declared,  and  the  stock 
holders  were  paid  in  a  regular  and  business-like  manner. 

The  effect  of  such  methods  as  these  is  not  only  to  make 
the  years  of  childhood  pass  more  pleasantly,  but  also  to 
prepare  them  to  enter,  when  the  time  comes,  upon  the  seri 
ous  business  of  life  with  some  considerable  portion  of  that 
practical  wisdom  in  the  management  of  money  which  is 
often,  when  it  is  deferred  to  a  later  period,  acquired  only 
by  bitter  experience  and  through  much  suffering. 

Indeed,  any  parent  who  appreciates  and  fully  enters  into 
the  views  presented  in  this  chapter  will  find,  in  ordinary 
cases,  that  his  children  make  so  much  progress  in  business 
capacity  that  he  can  extend  the  system  so  as  to  embrace 
subjects  of  real  and  serious  importance  before  the  children 
arrive  at  maturity.  A  boy,  for  instance,  who  has  been 
trained  in  this  way  will  be  found  competent,  by  the  time 
that  he  is  ten  or  twelve  years  old,  to  take  the  contract  for 
furnishing  himself  with  caps,  or  boots  and  shoes,  and,  a  few 
years  later,  with  all  his  clothing,  at  a  specified  annual  sum. 
The  sum  fixed  upon  in  the  case  of  caps,  for  example,  should 
be  intermediate  between  that  which  the  caps  of  a  boy  of 
ordinary  heedlessness  would  cost,  and  that  which  would  be 
sufficient  with  special  care,  so  that  both  the  father  and  the 
son  could  make  money,  as  it  were,  by  the  transaction.  Of 
course,  to  manage  such  a  system  successfully,  so  that  it 
could  afterwards  be  extended  to  other  classes  of  expenses, 
requires  tact,  skill,  system,  patience,  and  steadiness  on  the 
part  of  the  father  or  mother  who  should  attempt  it;  but 
when  the  parent  possesses  these  qualities,  the  time  and  at 
tention  that  would  be  required  would  be  as  nothing  com 
pared  with  the  trouble,  the  vexation,  the  endless  dissatisfac- 


THE  USE  OF  MONEY.  279 

tion  on  both  sides,  that  attend  upon  the  ordinary  methods 
of  supplying  children's  wants — to  say  nothing  of  the  incal 
culable  benefit  to  the  boy  himself  of  such  a  training,  as  a 
part  of  his  preparation  for  future  life. 

Evil  Results  to  be  feared. 

Nor  is  it  merely  upon  the  children  themselves,  and  that 
after  they  enter  upon  the  responsibilities  of  active  life,  that 
the  evils  resulting  from  their  having  had  no  practical  train 
ing  in  youth  in  respect  to  pecuniary  responsibilities  and 
obligations,  that  evil  consequences  will  fall.  The  great  cit 
ies  are  full  of  wealthy  men  whose  lives  are  rendered  miser 
able  by  the  recklessness  in  respect  to  money  which  is  dis 
played  by  their  sons  and  daughters  as  they  advance  towards 
maturity,  and  by  the  utter  want,  on  their  part,  of  all  sense 
of  delicacy,  and  of  obligation  or  of  responsibility  of  any 
kind  towards  their  parents  in  respect  to  their  pecuniary 
transactions.  Of  course  this  must,  in  a  vast  number  of 
cases,  be  the  result  when  the  boy  is  brought  up  from  infan 
cy  with  the  idea  that  the  only  limit  to  his  supply  of  money 
is  his  ingenuity  in  devising  modes  of  putting  a  pressure 
upon  his  father.  Fifteen  or  twenty  years  spent  in  mana 
ging  his  affairs  on  this  principle  must,  of  course,  produce 
the  fruit  naturally  to  be  expected  from  such  seed. 

The  great  Difficulty. 

It  would  seem,  perhaps,  at  first  view,  from  what  has  been 
said  in  this  chapter,  that  it  would  be  a  very  simple  and  easy 
thing  to  train  up  children  thus  to  correct  ideas  and  habits 
in  respect  to  the  use  of  money ;  and  it  would  be  so — for  the 
principles  involved  seem  to  be  very  plain  and  simple — were 
it  not  that  the  qualities  which  it  requires  in  the  parent  are 
just  those  which  are  most  rare.  Deliberateness  in  forming 
the  plan,  calmness  and  quietness  in  proposing  it,  inflexible 


280  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

but  mild  and  gentle  firmness  in  carrying  it  out,  perfect  hon. 
esty  in  allowing  the  children  to  exercise  the  power  and  re 
sponsibility  promised  them,  and  an  indulgent  spirit  in  rela 
tion  to  the  faults  and  errors  into  which  they  fall  in  the  ex 
ercise  of  it — these  and  other  such  qualities  are  not  very 
easily  found.  To  make  an  arrangement  with  a  child  that 
lie  is  to  receive  a  certain  sum  every  Saturday,  and  then  af 
ter  two  or  three  weeks  to  forget  it,  and  when  the  boy 
comes  to  call  for  it,  to  say,  petulantly,  "  Oh,  don't  come  to 
bother  me  about  that  now — I  am  busy;  and  besides, I  have 
not  got  the  money  now;"  or,  when  a  boy  has  spent  all  his 
allowance  on  the  first  two  or  three  days  of  the  week,  and 
comes  to  beg  importunately  for  more,  to  say,  "  It  was  very 
wrong  in  you  to  spend  all  your  money  at  once,  and  I  have  a 
great  mind  not  to  give  you  any  more.  I  will,  however,  do 
it  just  this  time,  but  I  shall  not  again,  you  may  depend;" 
or,  to  borrow  money  in  some  sudden  emergency  out  of  the 
fund  which  a  child  has  accumulated  for  a  special  purpose, 
and  then  to  forget  or  neglect  to  repay  it — to  manage  loose 
ly  and  capriciously  in  any  such  ways  as  these  will  be  sure  to 
make  the  attempt  a  total  failure ;  that  is  to  say,  such  man 
agement  will  be  sure  to  be  a  failure  in  respect  to  teaching 
the  boy  to  act  on  right  principles  in  the  management  of 
money,  and  training  him  to  habits  of.  exactness  and  faith 
fulness  in  the  fulfillment  of  his  obligations.  But  in  making 
him  a  thoughtless,  wasteful,  teasing,  and  selfish  boy  while 
he  remains  a  boy,  and  fixing  him,  when  he  comes  to  man 
hood,  in  the  class  of  those  who  are  utterly  untrustworthy, 
faithless  in  the  performance  of  their  promises,  and  wholly 
unscrupulous  in  respect  to  the  means  by  which  they  obtain 
money,  it  may  very  probably  turn  out  to  be  a  splendid  suc 
cess. 


CORPOEAL  PUNISHMENT.  281 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

CORPORAL  PUNISHMENT. 

IT  might,  perhaps,  be  thought  that,  in  a  book  which  pro 
fesses  to  show  how  an  efficient  government  can  be  estab 
lished  and  maintained  by  gentle  measures,  the  subject  of 
corporal  punishment  could  have  no  place.  It  seems  impor 
tant,  however,  that  there  should  be  here  introduced  a  brief 
though  distinct  presentation  of  the  light  in  which,  in  a 
philosophical  point  of  view,  this  instrumentality  is  to  be  re 
garded. 

The  Teachings  of  Scripture. 

The  resort  to  corporal  punishment  in  the  training  of  chil 
dren  seems  to  be  spoken  of  in  many  passages  contained  ia 
the  Scriptures  as  of  fundamental  necessity.  But  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  the  word  rod,  as  used  in  those  passages, 
is  used  simply  as  the  emblem  of  parental  authority.  This 
is  in  accordance  with  the  ordinary  custom  of  Hebrew  writ 
ers  in  those  days,  and  with  the  idiom  of  their  language,  by 
which  a  single  visible  or  tangible  object  was  employed  as 
the  representative  or  expression  of  a  general  idea — as,  for 
example,  the  sword  is  used  as  the  emblem  of  magisterial 
authority,  and  the  sun  and  the  rain,  which  are  spoken  of  as 
being  sent  with  their  genial  and  fertilizing  power  upon  the 
evil  and  the  good,  denote  not  specially  and  exclusively  those 
agencies,  but  all  the  beneficent  influences  of  nature  which 
they  are  employed  to  represent.  The  injunctions,  there 
fore,  of  Solomon  in  respect  to  the  use  of  the  rod  are  un 
doubtedly  to  be  understood  as  simply  enjoining  upon  par- 


283  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

ents  the  necessity  of  bringing  up  their  children  in  complete 
subjection  to  their  authority.  No  one  can  imagine  that  he 
could  wish  the  rod  to  be  used  when  complete  subjection 
to  the  parental  authority  could  be  secured  by  more  gentle 
means.  And  how  this  is  to  be  done  it  is  the  object  pre 
cisely  of  this  book  to  show. 

In  this  sense,  therefore — and  it  is  undoubtedly  the  true 
sense — namely,  that  children  must  be  governed  by  the  au 
thority  of  the  parent)  the  passages  in  question  express  a 
great  and  most  essential  truth.  It  is  sometimes  said  that 
children  must  be  governed  by  reason,  and  this  is  true,  but 
it  is  the  reason  of  their  parents,  and  not  their  own  which 
must  hold  the  control.  If  children  were  endowed  with  the 
capacity  of  seeing  what  is  best  for  them,  and  with  sufficient 
self-control  to  pursue  what  is  best  against  the  counter-influ 
ences  of  their  animal  instincts  and  propensities,  there  would 
be  no  necessity  that  the  period  of  subjection  to  parental  au 
thority  should  be  extended  over  so  many  years.  But  so 
long  as  their  powers  are  yet  too  immature  to  be  safely  re 
lied  upon,  they  must,  of  necessity,  be  subject  to  the  parental 
will ;  and  the  sooner  and  the  more  perfectly  they  are  made 
to  understand  this,  and  to  yield  a  willing  submission  to  the 
necessity,  the  better  it  will  be,  not  only  for  their  parents, 
but  also  for  themselves. 

The  parental  authority  must,  therefore,  be  established — 
by  gentle  means,  if  possible — but  it  must  by  all  means  be 
established,  and  be  firmly  maintained.  If  you  can  not  gov 
ern  your  child  without  corporal  punishment,  it  is  better  to 
resort  to  it  than  not  to  govern  him  at  all.  Taking  a  wide 
view  of  the  field,  I  think  there  may  be  several  cases  in  which 
a  resort  to  the  infliction  of  physical  pain  as  the  only  available 
means  of  establishing  authority  may  be  the  only  alterna 
tive.  There  are  three  cases  of  this  kind  that  are  to  be  spe 
cially  considered. 


CORPORAL  PUNISHMENT.  385 

Possible  Cases  in  which  it  is  the  only  Alternative. — 
Savages. 

1.  In  savage  or  half-civilized  life,  and  even,  perhaps,  in  so 
rude  a  state  of  society  as  must  have  existed  in  some  parts 
of  Judea  when  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon  were  written,  it  is 
conceivable  that  many  parents,  owing  to  their  own  igno 
rance,  and  low  animal  condition,  would  have  no  other  means 
at  their  command  for  establishing  their  authority  over  their 
children  than  scoldings  and  blows.     It  must  be  so  among 
savages.     And  it  is  certainly  better,  if  the  mother  knows 
no  other  way  of  inducing  her  "boy  to  keep  within  her  sight, 
that  she  should  whip  him  when  he  runs  away,  than  that  he 
should  be  bitten  by  serpents  or  devoured  by  bears.     She 
must  establish  her  authority  in  some  way,  and  if  this  is  the 
best  that  she  is  capable  of  pursuing,  she  must  use  it. 

.    Teachers  whose  Tasks  surpass  their  Skill. 

2.  A  teacher,  in  entering  upon  the   charge   of  a  large 
school  of  boys  made  unruly  by  previous  mismanagement, 
may,  perhaps,  possibly  find  himself  unable  to  establish  sub 
mission  to  his  authority  without  this  resource.     It  is  true 
that  if  it  is  so,  it  is  due,  in  a  certain  sense,  to  want  of  skill 
on  the  teacher's  part ;  for  there  are  men,  and  women  too, 
\vho  will  take  any  company  of  boys  that  you  can  give  them, 
and,  by  a  certain  skill,  or  tact,  or  knowledge  of  human  na 
ture,  or  other  qualities  which  seem  sometimes  to  other  per 
sons  almost  magical,  will  have  them  all  completely  under 
subjection  in  a  week,  and  that  without  violence,  without 
scolding,  almost  without  even  a  frown.    The  time  may,  per 
haps,  come  when  every  teacher,  to  be  considered  qualified 
for  his  work,  must  possess  this  skill.     Indeed,  the  world  is 
evidently  making  great  and  rapid  progress  in  this  direc 
tion.     The  methods  of  instruction  and  the  modes  by  which 


286  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

the  teacher  gains  and  holds  his  influence  over  his  pupils 
have  been  wonderfully  improved  in  recent  times,  so  that 
where  there  was  one  teacher,  fifty  years  ago,  who  was  real 
ly  beloved  by  his  pupils,  we  have  fifty  now.  In  Dr.  John 
son's  time,  which  was  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago, 
it  would  seem  that  there  was  no  other  mode  but  that  of  vi 
olent  coercion  recognized  as  worthy  to  be  relied  upon  in 
imparting  instruction,  for  he  said  that  he  knew  of  no  way 
by  which  Latin  could  be  taught  to  boys  in  his  day  but 
"  by  having  it  flogged  into  them." 

From  such  a  state  of  things  to  that  which  prevails  at  the 
present  day  there  has  been  an  astonishing  change.  And 
now,  whether  a  teacher  is  able  to  manage  an  average  school 
of  boys  without  physical  force  is  simply  a  question  of  tact, 
knowledge  of  the  right  principles,  and  skill  in  applying 
them  on  his  part.  It  is,  perhaps,  yet  too  soon  to  expect 
that  all  teachers  can  possess,  or  can  acquire,  these  qualifica 
tions  to  such  a  degree  as  to  make  it  safe  to  forbid  the  in 
fliction  of  bodily  pain  in  any  case,  but  the  time  for  it  is  rap 
idly  approaching,  and  in  some  parts  of  the  country  it  has, 
perhaps,  already  arrived.  Until  that  time  comes,  every 
teacher  who  finds  himself  under  the  necessity  of  beating  a 
boy's  body  in  order  to  attain  certain  moral  or  intellectual 
ends  ought  to  understand  that  the  reason  is  the  incom 
pleteness  of  his  understanding  and  skill  in  dealing  directly 
with  his  mind ;  though  for  this  incompleteness  he  may  not 
himself  be  personally  at  all  to  blame. 

Children  spoiled  by  Neglect  and  Mismanagement. 
3.  I  am  even  willing  to  admit  that  one  or  more  boys 
in  a  family  may  reach  such  a  condition  of  rudeness  and 
insubordination,  in  consequence  of  neglect  or  mismanage 
ment  on  the  part  of  their  parents  in  their  early  years,  and 
the  present  clumsiness  and  incapacity  of  the  father  in  deal- 


CORPORAL  PUNISHMENT.  287 

ing  with  the  susceptibilities  and  impulses  of  the  human 
soul,  that  the  question  will  lie  between  keeping  them  with 
in  some  kind  of  subordination  by  bodily  punishment  or 
not  controlling  them  at  all.  If  a  father  has  been  so  en 
grossed  in  his  business  that  he  has  neglected  his  children, 
has  never  established  any  common  bond  of  sympathy  be 
tween  himself  and  them,  has  taken  no  interest  in  their  en 
joyments,  nor  brought  them  by  moral  means  to  an  habitual 
subjection  to  his  will;  and  if  their  mother  is  a  weak,  ir 
resolute  woman,  occupying  herself  with  the  pursuits  and 
pleasures  of  fashionable  society,  and  leaving  her  children 
to  the  management  of  servants,  the  children  will,  of  course, 
in  general,  grow  up  exacting,  turbulent,  and  ungoverna 
ble  ;  and  when,  with  advancing  maturity,  their  increasing 
strength  and  vigor  makes  this  turbulence  and  disorder  in 
tolerable  in  the  house,  and  there  is,  as  of  course  there  usu 
ally  will  be  in  such  a  case,  no  proper  knowledge  and  skill 
in  the  management  of  the  young  on  the  part  of  either  par 
ent  to  remedy  the  evil  by  gentle  measures,  the  only  alter 
native  in  many  cases  may  be  either  a  resort  to  violent 
punishment,  or  the  sending  away  of  the  unmanageable  sub 
jects  to  school.  The  latter  part  of  the  alternative  is  the 
best,  and,  fortunately,  it  is  the  one  generally  adopted.  But 
where  it  can  not  be  adopted,  it  is  certainly  better  that  the 
boys  should  be  governed  by  the  rod  than  to  grow  up  un 
der  no  government  at  all. 

Gentle  Measures  effectual  where  Rightfully  and  Faith 
fully  employed. 

However  it  may  be  with  respect  to  the  exceptional  cases 
above  enumerated,  and  perhaps  some  others,  there  can,  I 
think,  be  no  doubt  that  parents  who  should  train  their 
children  from  the  beginning  on  the  principles  explained  in 
this  volume,  and  upon  others  analogous  to  them,  would 


283  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

never,  in  any  case,  have  to  strike  a  blow.  They  would  ac 
complish  the  end  enjoined  by  the  precepts  of  Solomon, 
namely,  the  complete  subjection  of  their  children  to  their 
authority,  by  improved  methods  not  known  in  his  day,  or, 
at  least,  not  so  fully  developed  that  they  could  then  be  re 
lied  upon.  They  who  imagine  that  parents  are  bound  to 
use  the  rod  as  the  instrumentality,  because  the  Scriptures 
speak  of  the  rod  as  the  means  of  establishing  parental  au 
thority  best  known  in  those  days,  instead  of  employing  the 
more  effective  methods  which  the  progress  of  improvement 
has  developed  and  made  available  at  the  present  day,  ought, 
in  order  to  be  consistent,  to  insist  on  the  retention  of  the 
harp  in  religious  worship,  because  David  enjoins  it  upon 
believers  to  "  praise  the  Lord  with  harp :"  to  "  sing  unto 
him  with  psaltery,  and  an  instrument  of  ten  strings."  The 
truth  is,  that  what  we  are  to  look  at  in  such  injunctions  is 
the  end  that  is  to  be  attained,  which  is,  in  this  last  case, 
the  impressive  and  reverential  exaltation  of  Almighty  God 
in  our  minds  by  the  acts  of  public  worship ;  and  if,  with 
the  improvements  in  musical  instruments  which  have  been 
made  in  modern  times,  we  can  do  this  more  satisfactorily 
by  employing  in  the  place  of  a  psaltery  or  a  harp  of  ten 
strings  an  organ  of  ten  or  a  hundred  stops,  we  are  bound 
to  make  the  substitution.  In  a  word,  we  must  look  at  the 
end  and  not  at  the  means,  remembering  that  in  questions 
of  Scripture  interpretation  the  "letter  killeth,  the  spirit 
maketh  alive." 

Protracted  Contests  with  Obstinacy. 
It  seems  to  me,  though  I  am  aware  that  many  excellent 
persons  think  differently,  that  it  is  never  wise  for  the  par 
ent  to  allow  himself  to  be  drawn  into  a  contest  with  a  child 
in  attempting  to  compel  him  to  do  something  that  from  ill- 
temper  or  obstinacy  he  refuses  to  do.  If  the  attempt  is 


CORPORAL  PUNISHMENT.  289 

successful,  and  the  child  yields  under  a  moderate  severity 
of  coercion,  it  is  all  very  well.  But  there  is  something 
mysterious  and  unaccountable  in  the  strength  of  the  ob 
stinacy  sometimes  manifested  in  sucli  cases,  and  the  de 
gree  of  endurance  which  it  will  often  inspire,  even  in  chil 
dren  of  the  most  tender  age.  We  observe  the  same  inex 
plicable  fixedness  sometimes  in  the  lower  animals — in  the 
horse,  for  example ;  which  is  the  more  unaccountable  from 
the  fact  that  we  can  not  suppose,  in  his  case,  that  peculiar 
combination  of  intelligence  and  ill-temper  which  we  gener 
ally  consider  the  sustaining  power  of  the  protracted  obsti 
nacy  on  tho  part  of  the  child.  The  degree  of  persistence 
which  is  manifested  by  children  in  contests  of  this  kind  is 
something  wonderful,  and  can  not  easily  be  explained  by 
any  of  the  ordinary  theories  in  respect  to  the  influence  of 
motives  on  the  human  mind.  A  state  of  cerebral  excite 
ment  and  exaltation  is  not  unfrequently  produced  which 
seems  akin  to  insanity,  and  instances  have  been  known  in 
which  a  child  has  suffered  itself  to  be  beaten  to  death 
rather  than  yield  obedience  to  a  very  simple  command. 
And  in  vast  numbers  of  instances,  the  parent,  after  a  pro 
tracted  contest,  gives  up  in  despair,  and  is  compelled  to  in 
vent  some  plausible  pretext  for  bringing  it  to  an  end. 

Indeed,  when  we  reflect  upon  the  subject,  we  see  what  a 
difficult  task  we  undertake  in  such  contests — it  being  noth 
ing  less  than  that  of  forcing  the  formation  of  a  volition  in  a 
human  mind.  We  can  easily  control  the  bodily  movements 
and  actions  of  another  person  by  means  of  an  external  co 
ercion  that  we  can  apply,  and  we  have  various  indirect 
means  of  inducing  volitions;  but  in  these  contests  we 
seem  to  come  up  squarely  to  the  work  of  attempting,  by 
outward  force,  to  compel  the  forming  of  a  volition  in  the 
mind ;  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  this  should,  at  least 
sometimes,  prove  a  very  difficult  undertaking. 

N 


290  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

No  Necessity  for  these  Contests. 

There  seems  to  be  no  necessity  that  a  parent  or  teacher 
should  ever  become  involved  in  struggles  of  this  kind  in 
maintaining  his  authority.  The  way  to  avoid  them,  as  it 
seems  to  me,  is,  when  a  child  refuses  out  of  obstinacy  to 
do  what  is  required  of  him,  to  impose  the  proper  punish 
ment  or  penalty  for  the  refusal,  and  let  that  close  the  trans 
action.  Do  not  attempt  to  enforce  his  compliance  by  con 
tinuing  the  punishment  until  he  yields.  A  child,  for  ex 
ample,  going  out  to  play,  wishes  for  his  blue  cap.  His 
mother  chooses  that  he  shall  wear  his  gray  one.  She  hangs 
the  blue  cap  up  in  its  place,  and  gives  him  the  gray  one. 
He  declares  that  he  will  not  wear  it,  and  throws  it  down 
upon  the  floor.  The  temptation  now  is  for  the  mother,  in 
dignant,  to  punish  him,  and  then  to  order  him  to  take  up 
the  cap  which  he  had  thrown  down,  and  to  feel  that  it  is 
her  duty,  in  case  he  refuses,  to  persist  in  the  punishment 
until  she  conquers  his  will,  and  compels  him  to  take  it  up 
and  put  it  upon  his  head. 

But  instead  of  this,  a  safer  and  a  better  course,  it  seems 
to  me,  is  to  avoid  a  contest  altogether  by  considering  the 
offense  complete,  and  the  transaction  on  his  part  finished  by 
the  single  act  of  rebellion  against  her  authority.  She  may 
take  the  cap  up  from  the  floor  herself  and  put  it  in  its 
place,  and  then  simply  consider  what  punishment  is  proper 
for  the  wrong  already  done.  Perhaps  she  forbids  the  boy 
to  go  out  at  all.  Perhaps  she  reserves  the  punishment,  and 
sends  him  to  bed  an  hour  earlier  that  night.  The  age  of 
the  boy,  or  some  other  circumstances  connected  with  the 
case,  may  be  such  as  to  demand  a  severer  treatment  still. 
At  any  rate,  she  limits  the  transaction  to  the  single  act  of 
disobedience  and  rebellion  already  committed,  without  giv 
ing  an  opportunity  for  a  repetition  of  it  by  renewing  the 


CORFOHAL  PUNISHMENT.  291 

command,  and  inflicts  for  it  the  proper  punishment,  and 
that  is  the  end  of  the  affair. 

And  so  a  boy  in  reciting  a  lesson  will  not  repeat  certain 
words  after  his  mother.  She  enters  into  no  controversy 
with  him,  but  shuts  the  book  and  puts  it  away.  He,  know 
ing  his  mother's  usual  mode  of  management  in  such  cases, 
and  being  sure  that  some  penalty,  privation,  or  punishment 
will  sooner  or  later  follow,  relents,  and  tells  his  mother  that 
he  will  say  the  words  if  she  will  try  him  again. 

"  No,  my  son,"  she  should  reply, "  the  opportunity  is  past. 
You  should  have  done  your  duty  at  the  right  time.  You 
have  disobeyed  me,  and  I  must  take  time  to  consider  what 
to  do." 

If,  at  the  proper  time,  in  such  a  case,  when  all  the  excite 
ment  of  the  affair  is  over,  a  penalty  or  punishment  appor 
tioned  to  the  fault,  or  some  other  appropriate  measures  in 
relation  to  it,  are  certain  to  come,  and  if  this  method  is  al 
ways  pursued  in  a  calm  and  quiet  manner  but  with  inflexi 
ble  firmness  in  act,  the  spirit  of  rebellion  will  be  much  more 
effectually  subdued  than  by  any  protracted  struggles  at  the 
time,  though  ending  in  victory  however  complete. 

But  all  this  is  a  digression,  though  it  seemed  proper  to 
allude  to  the  subject  of  these  contests  here,  since  it  is  on 
these  occasions,  perhaps,  that  parents  are  most  frequently 
led,  or,  as  they  think,  irresistibly  impelled,  to  the  infliction 
of  bodily  punishments  as  the  last  resort,  when  they  would, 
in  general,  be  strongly  inclined  to  avoid  them. 

The  Infliction  of  Pain  sometimes  the  speediest  Remedy. 
There  are,  moreover,  some  cases,  perhaps,  in  the  ordinary 
exigencies  of  domestic  life,  as  the  world  goes,  when  some 
personal  infliction  is  the  shortest  way  of  disposing  of  a  case 
of  discipline,  and  may  appear,  for  the  time  being,  to  be  the 
most  effectual.  A  slap  is  very  quickly  given,  and  a  mother 


20,3  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

may  often  think  that  she  has  not  time  for  a  more  gentle 
mode  of  managing  the  case,  even  though  she  may  admit 
that  if  she  had  the  time  at  her  command  the  gentle  mode 
would  be  the  best.  And  it  is,  indeed,  doubtless  true  that 
the  principles  of  management  advocated  in  this  work  are 
such  as  require  that  the  parents  should  devote  some  time 
and  attention,  and,  still  more  essentially,  some  heart  to  the 
work ;  and  they  who  do  not  consider  the  welfare  and  hap 
piness  of  their  children  in  future  life,  and  their  own  happi 
ness  in  connection  with  them  as  they  advance  towards  their 
declining  years,  as  of  sufficient  importance  to  call  for  the 
bestowment  of  this  time  and  attention,  will  doubtless  often 
resort  to  more  summary  methods  in  their  discipline  than 
those  here  recommended. 

The  Sting  that  it  leaves  behind. 

Indeed,  the  great  objection,  after  all,  to  the  occasional  re 
sort  to  the  infliction  of  bodily  pain  in  extreme  cases  is,  as 
it  seems  to  me,  the  sting  which  it  leaves  behind ;  not  that 
which  it  leaves  in  the  heart  of  the  child  who  may  suffer  it 
— for  that  soon  passes  away — but  in  the  heart  of  the  parent 
who  inflicts  it.  The  one  is, or  may  be,  very  evanescent;  the 
other  may  very  long  remain ;  and  what  is  worse,  the  an 
guish  of  it  may  be  revived  and  made  very  poignant  in  fu 
ture  years. 

This  consideration  makes  it  specially  imperative  on  every 
parent  never,  for  any  cause,  to  inflict  punishment  by  vio 
lence  when  himself  under  the  influence  of  any  irritation  or 
anger  awakened  by  the  offense.  For  though  the  anger 
which  the  fault  of  the  child  naturally  awakens  in  you 
carries  you  through  the  act  of  punishing  well  enough,  it 
soon  afterwards  passes  away,  while  the  memory  of  it  re 
mains,  and  in  after  years,  like  any  other  sin,  it  may  come 
back  to  exact  a  painful  retribution.  When  the  little  loved 


CORPORAL  PUNISHMENT.  293 

one  who  now  puts  you  out  of  patience  with  her  heedless- 
ness,  her  inconsiderateness,  and,  perhaps,  by  worse  faults 
and  failings — all,  however,  faults  which  may  very  possibly, 
in  part  or  in  whole,  be  the  result  of  the  immature  and  un 
developed  condition  of  her  mental  or  bodily  powers — falls 
sick  and  dies,  and  you  follow  her  as  she  is  borne  away,  and 
with  a  bursting  heart  see  her  laid  in  her  little  grave,  it  will 
be  a  great  comfort  to  you  then  to  reflect  that  you  did  all  in 
your  power,  by  means  of  the  gentlest  measures  at  your 
command,  to  train  her  to  truth  and  duty,  that  you  never 
lost  patience  with  her,  and  that  she  never  felt  from  your 
hand  any  thing  but  gentle  assistance  or  a  loving  caress. 

And  your  boy — now  so  ardent  and  impulsive,  and  often, 
perhaps,  noisy,  troublesome,  and  rude,  from  the  exuberant 
afctiou  of  his  growing  powers — when  these  powers  shall 
have  received  their  full  development,  and  he  has  passed 
from  your  control  to  his  place  in  the  world  as  a  man,  and 
he  comes  back  from  time  to  time  to  the  maternal  home  in 
grateful  remembrance  of  his  obligations  to  his  mother, 
bringing  with  him  tokens  of  his  affection  and  love,  you  will 
think  with  pain  of  the  occasions  when  you  subjected  him 
to  the  torture  of  the  rod  under  the  impulse  of  irritation  or 
anger,  or  to  accomplish  the  ends  of  discipline  which  might 
have  been  attained  in  other  ways.  Time,  as  you  then  look 
back  over  the  long  interval  of  years  which  have  elapsed, 
will  greatly  soften  the  recollection  of  the  fault,  but  it  will 
greatly  aggravate  that  of  the  pain  which  was  made  the  ret 
ribution  of  it.  You  will  say  to  yourself,  it  is  true,  I  did  it 
for  the  best.  If  I  had  not  done  it,  my  son  would  perhaps 
not  be  what  he  is.  He,  if  he  remembers  the  transaction, 
will  doubtless  say  so  too ;  but  there  will  be  none  the  less 
for  both  a  certain  sting  in  the  recollection,  and  you  will 
wish  that  the  same  end  could  have  been  accomplished  by 
gentler  means. 


294  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

The  substance  of  it  is  that  children  must,  at  all  events, 
be  governed.  The  proper  authority  over  them  must  be 
maintained ;  but  it  is  a  great  deal  better  to  secure  this  end 
by  gentle  measures,  if  the  parent  have  or  can  acquire  the 
skill  to  employ  them. 


GRATITUDE  IN  CHILDREN.  295 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

GRATITUDE  IN  CHILDREN. 

MOTHEKS  are  very  often  pained  at  what  seems  to  them 
tne  ingratitude  of  their  children.  They  long,  above  all 
things,  for  their  love.  They  do  every  thing  in  their  power 
— I  mean,  of  course,  that  some  mothers  do — to  win  it. 
They  make  every  sacrifice,  and  give  every  possible  evi 
dence  of  affection ;  but  they  seem  to  fail  entirely  of  bring 
ing  out  any  of  those  evidences  of  gratitude  and  affection 
in  return  which,  if  they  could  only  witness  them,  would  fill 
their  hearts  with  gladness  and  joy.  But  the  only  feeling 
which  their  children  manifest  towards  them  seems  to  be 
a  selfish  one.  They  come  to  them  Avhen  in  trouble,  they 
even  fly  to  them  eagerly  when  in  danger,  and  they  con 
sider  their  parents  the  chief  resource  for  procuring  nearly 
all  their  means  of  gratification.  But  they  think  little,  as 
it  often  seems,  of  the  mother's  comfort  and  enjoyment  in 
return,  and  seldom  or  never  do  any  thing  voluntarily  to 
give  her  pleasure. 

It  would  be  a  great  exaggeration  to  say  that  this  is  al 
ways  the  feeling  of  the  mother  in  respect  to  her  children. 
I  only  mean  that  this  is  sometimes,  and  I  might  probably 
say  very  often,  the  case. 

Two  Forms  of  Love. 
Now  there  are  two  distinct  forms  which  the  feelin^  of 

O 

love  may  assume  in  the  mature  mind,  both  of  which  are 
gratifying  to  the  object  of  it,  though  they  are  very  differ 
ent,  and  indeed  in  some  sense  exactly  the  opposite  of  each 


296  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

other.  There  is  the  receiving  and  the  bestowing  love.  It 
is  true  that  the  two  forms  are  often  conjoined,  or  rather 
they  often  exist  in  intimate  combination  with  each  other ; 
but  in  their  nature  they  are  essentially  distinct.  A  young 
lady,  for  example,  may  feel  a  strong  attachment  for  the 
gentleman  to  whom  she  is  engaged— or  a  wife  for  her  hus 
band — in  the  sense  of  liking  to  receive  kindness  and  atten 
tion  from  him  more  than  from  any  other  man.  She  may 
be  specially  pleased  when  he  invites  her  to  ride  w^ith  him, 
or  makes  her  presents,  or  shows  in  any  way  that  he  thinks 
of  her  and  seeks  her  happiness — more  so  than  she  would 
be  to  receive  the  same  attentions  from  any  other  person. 
This  is  love.  It  may  be  very  genuine  love ;  but  it  is  love 
in  the  form  of  taking  special  pleasure  in  the  kindness  and 
favor  bestowed  by  the  object  of  it.  Yet  it  is  none  the 
less  true,  as  most  persons  have  had  occasion  to  learn  from 
their  own  experience,  that  this  kind  of  love  may  be  very 
strong  without  being  accompanied  by  any  corresponding 
desire  on  the  part  of  the  person  manifesting  it  to  make 
sacrifices  of  her  own  ease  and  comfort  in  order  to  give 
happiness  to  the  object  of  her  love  in  return. 

In  the  same  manner  a  gentleman  may  feel  a  strong  sen 
timent  of  love  for  a  lady,  which  shall  take  the  form  of  en 
joying  her  society,  of  being  happy  when  he  is  near  her, 
and  greatly  pleased  at  her  making  sacrifices  for  his  sake, 
or  manifesting  in  any  way  a  strong  attachment  for  him. 
There  may  be  also  united  with  this  the  other  form  of  love — 
namely,  that  which  would  lead  him  to  deny  himself  and 
make  sacrifices  for  Jier.  But  the  two,  though  they  may 
often — perhaps  generally — exist  together,  are  in  their  na 
ture  so  essentially  different  that  they  may  be  entirely  sep 
arated,  and  we  may  have  one  in  its  full  strength  while  there 
is  very  little  of  the  other.  You  may  love  a  person  in  the 
sense  of  taking  greater  pleasure  in  receiving  attentions  and 


GRATITUDE  IN  CHILDREN.  .      297 

favors  from  him  than  from  all  the  world  beside,  while  yet 
you  seldom  think  of  making  efforts  to  promote,  his  comfort 
and  happiness  in  any  thing  in  which  you  are  not  yourself 
personally  concerned.  On  the  other  hand,  you  may  love 
him  with  the  kind  of  affection  which  renders  it  the  great 
est  pleasure  of  your  life  to  make  sacrifices  and  endure  self- 
denial  to  promote  his  welfare  in  any  way. 

In  some  cases  these  two  forms  are  in  fact  entirely  sep 
arated,  and  one  or  the  other  can  exist  entirely  distinct  from 
the  other — as  in  the  case  of  the  kind  feelings  of  a  good 
man  towards  the  poor  and  miserable.  It  is  quite  possi 
ble  to 'feel  a  very  strong  interest  in  such  objects,  and  to 
be  willing  to  put  ourselves  to  considerable  inconvenience 
to  make  them  comfortable  and  happy,  and  to  take  great 
pleasure  in  learning  that  our  efforts  have  been  effectual, 
without  feeling  any  love  for  them  at  all  in  the  other  form 
— that  is,  any  desire  to  have  them  with  us,  to  receive  atten 
tions  and  kindness  from  them,  and  to  enjoy  their  society. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  the  love  of  a  young  child  for  his 
mother  the  case  is  reversed.  The  love  of  the  child  con 
sists  chiefly  in  liking  to  be  with  his  mother,  in  going  to 
her  rather  than  to  any  one  else  for  relief  from  pain  or  for 
comfort  in  sorrow,  and  is  accompanied  with  very  few  and 
very  faint  desires  to  make  efforts,  or  to  submit  to  priva 
tions,  or  to  make  sacrifices,  for  the  promotion  of  her  good. 

Order  of  their  Development. 

Now  the  qualities  and  characteristics  of  the  soul  on 
which  the  capacity  for  these  two  forms  of  love  depend 
seem  to  be  very  different,  and  they  advance  in  develop 
ment  and  come  to  maturity  at  different  periods  of  life;  so 
that  the  mother,  in  feeling  dejected  and  sad  because  she 
can  not  awaken  in  the  mind  of  her  child  the  gratitude  and 
the  consideration  for  her  comfort  and  happiness  which 


298  ,  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

she  desires,  is  simply  looking  for  a  certain  kind  of  fruit 
at  the  wrong  time.  You  have  one  of  the  forms  of  love 
for  you  on  the  part  of  the  child  now  while  he  is  young. 
In  due  time,  when  he  arrives  at  maturity,  if  you  will  wait 
patiently,  you  will  assuredly  have  the  other.  Now  he  runs 
to  you  in  every  emergency.  He  asks  you  for  every  thing 
that  he  wants.  lie  can  find  comfort  nowhere  else  but  in 
your  arms,  when  he  is  in  distress  or  in  suffering  from  pain, 
disappointment,  or  sorrow.  But  he  will  not  make  any  ef 
fort  to  be  still  when  you  are  sick,  or  to  avoid  interrupting 
you  when  you  are  busy ;  and  insists,  perhaps,  on  your  car 
rying  him  when  he  is  tired,  without  seeming  to  think  or 
care  whether  you  may  not  be  tired  too.  But  in  duo  time 
all  this  will  be  changed.  Twenty  years  hence  he  will  con 
ceal  all  his  troubles  from  you  instead  of  coming  with  them 
to  you  for  comfort.  lie  will  be  off  in  the  world  engaged 
in  his  pursuits,  no  longer  bound  closely  to  your  side.  But 
he  will  think  all  the  time  of  your  comfort  and  happiness. 
He  will  bring  you  presents,  and  pay  you  innumerable  at 
tentions  to  cheer  your  heart  in  your  declining  years.  He 
will  not  run  to  you  when  he  has  hurt  himself ;  but  if  any 
thing  happens  to-?/0w,  he  will  leave  every  thing  to  hasten 
to  your  relief,  and  bring  with  him  all  the  comforts  and 
means  of  enjoyment  for  you  that  his  resources  can  com 
mand.  The  time  will  thus  come  when  you  will  have  his 
love  to  your  heart's  content,  in  the  second  form.  You 
must  be  satisfied,  while  he  is  so  young,  with  the  first  form 
of  it,  which  is  all  that  his  powers  and  faculties  in  their 
present  stage  are  capable  of  developing. 

The  truth  of  the  case  seems  to  be  that  the  faculties  of 
the  human  mind — or  I  should  perhaps  rather  say,  the  sus 
ceptibilities  of  the  soul — like  the  instincts  of  animals,  are 
developed  in  the  order  in  which  they  are  required  for  the 
good  of  the  subject  of  them. 


GRATITUDE  IN  CHILDREN.  299 

Indeed,  it  is  very  interesting  and  curious  to  observe 
how  striking  the  analogy  in  the  order  of  development,  in 
respect  to  the  nature  of  the  bond  of  attachment  which 
binds  the  offspring  to  the  parent,  runs  through  all  those 
ranks  of  the  animal  creation  in  which  the  young  for  a  time 
depend  upon  the  mother  for  food  or  for  protection.  The 
chickens  in  any  moment  of  alarm  run  to  the  hen ;  and  the 
lamb,  the  calf,  and  the  colt  to  their  respective  mothers ; 
but  none  of  them  would  feel  the  least  inclination  to  come 
to  the  rescue  of  the  parent  if  the  parent  was  in  danger. 
With  the  mother  herself  it  is  exactly  the  reverse.  Her 
heart — if  we  can  speak  of  the  seat  of  the  maternal  affec 
tions  of  such  creatures  as  a  heart — is  filled  with  desires  to 
bestow  good  upon  her  offspring,  without  a  desire,  or  even 
a  thought,  of  receiving  any  good  from  them  in  return. 

There  is  this  difference,  however,  between  the  race  of 
man  and  those  of  the  inferior  animals — namely,  that  in  his 
case  the  instinct,  or  at  least  a-  natural  desire  which  is  in 
some  respects  analogous  to  an  instinct,  prompting  him  to 
repay  to  his  parents  the  benefits  which  he  received  from 
them  in  youth,  comes  in  due  time ;  while  in  that  of  the 
lower  animals  it  seems  never  to  come  at  all.  The  little 
birds,  after  opening  their  mouths  so  wide  every  time  the 
mother  comes  to  the  nest  during  all  the  weeks  while  their 
wings  are  growing,  fly  away  when  they  are  grown,  with 
out  the  least  care  or  concern  for  the  anxiety  and  distress 
of  the  mother  occasioned  by  their  imprudent  flights ;  and 
once  away  and  free,  never  come  back,  so  far  as  we  know, 
to  make  any  return  to  their  mother  for  watching  over 
them,  sheltering  them  with  her  body,  and  working  so  in- 
defatigably  to  provide  them  with  food  during  the  helpless 
period  of  their  infancy — and  still  less  to  seek  and  protect 
and  feed  her  in  her  old  age.  But  the  boy,  reckless  as  he 
sometimes  seems  in  his  boyhood,  insensible  apparently  to 


300  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

his  obligations  to  his  mother,  and  little  mindful  of  her 
wishes  or  of  her  feelings — his  affection  for  her  showing 
itself  mainly  in  his  readiness  to  go  to  her  with  all  his 
wants,  and  in  all  his  troubles  and  sorrows — will  begin, 
when  he  has  arrived  at  maturity  and  no  longer  needs  her 
aid,  to  remember  with  gratitude  the  past  aid  that  she  has 
rendered  him.  The  current  of  affection  in  his  heart  will 
turn  and  flow  the  other  way.  Instead  of  wishing  to  re 
ceive,  he  will  now  only  wish  to  give.  If  she  is  in  want,  he 
will  do  all  he  can  to  supply  her.  If  she  is  in  sorrow,  he 
will  be  happy  if  he  can  do  any  thing  to  comfort  her.  He 
will  send  her  memorials  of  his  gratitude,  and  objects  of 
comfort  and  embellishment  for  her  home,  and  will  watch 
with  solicitude  and  sincere  affection  over  her  declining 
years. 

And  all  this  change,  if  not  the  result  of  a  new  instinct 
which  reaches  its  development  only  when  the  period  of  ma 
turity  arrives,  is  the  unfolding  of  a  sentiment  of  the  heart 
belonging  essentially  to  the  nature  of  the  subject  of  it  as 
man.  It  is  true  that  this  capacity  may,  under  certain  cir 
cumstances,  be  very  feebly  developed.  In  some  cases,  in 
deed,  it  would  seem  that  it  was  scarcely  developed  at  all ; 
but  there  is  a  provision  for  it  in  the  nature  of  man,  while 
there  is  no  provision  for  it  at  all  in  the  sentient  principles 
of  the  lower  animals. 

Advancing  the  Development  of  the  Sentiment  of  Grati 
tude. 

Now,  although  parents  must  not  be  impatient  at  the  slow 
appearance  of  this  feeling  in  their  children,  and  must  not  be 
troubled  in  its  not  appearing  before  its  time,  they  can  do 
much  by  proper  efforts  to  cultivate  its  growth,  and  give  it 
an  earlier  and  a  more  powerful  influence  over  them  than  it 
would  otherwise  manifest.  The  mode  of  doing  this  is  the 


GRATITUDE  IN  CHILDREN.  301 

same  as  in  all  other  cases  of  the  cultivation  of  moral  senti 
ments  in  children,  and  that  is  by  the  influence  over  them  of 
sympathy  with  those  they  love.  Just  as  the  way  to  culti 
vate  in  the  minds  of  children  a  feeling  of  pity  for  those 
who  are  in  distress  is  not  to  preach  it  as  a  duty,  but  to 
make  them  love  you,  and  then  show  such  pity  yourself; 
and  the  way  to  make  them  angry  and  revengeful  in  char 
acter — if  we  can  conceive  of  your  being  actuated  by  so  un 
natural  a  desire — would  be  often  to  express  violent  resent 
ment  yourself,  with  scowling  looks  and  fierce  denunciations 
against  those  who  have  offended  you ;  so,  to  awaken  them 
to  sentiments  of  gratitude  for  the  favors  they  receive,  you 
must  gently  lead  them  to  sympathize  with  you  in  the  grati 
tude  which  you  feel  for  the  favors  that  you  receive. 

When  a  child  shows  some  special  unwillingness  to  com 
ply  with  her  mother's  desires,  her  mother  may  address  to 
her  a  kind  but  direct  and  plain  expostulation  on  the  obliga 
tions  of  children  to  their  parents,  and  the  duty  incumbent 
en  them  of  being  grateful  for  their  kindness,  and  to  be  will 
ing  to  do  what  they  can  in  return.  Such  an  address  would 
probably  do  no  good  at  all.  The  child  would  receive  it  sim 
ply  as  a  scolding,  no  matter  how  mildly  and  gently  the  re 
proof  might  be  expressed,  and  would  shut  her  heart  against 
it.  It  is  something  which  she  must  stand  still  and  endure, 
and  that  is  all. 

But  let  the  mother  say  the  same  things  precisely  when 
the  child  has  shown  a  willingness  to  make  some  little  sacri 
fice  to  aid  or  to  gratify  her  mother,  so  that  the  sentiment 
expressed  may  enter  her  mind  in  the  form  of  approval  and 
not  of  condemnation,  and  the  effect  will  be  very  different. 
The  sentiments  will,  at  any  rate,  now  not  be  rejected  from 
the  mind,  but  the  way  will  be  open  for  them  to  enter,  and 
the  conversation  will  have  a  good  effect,  so  far  as  didactic 
teaching  can  have  effect  in  such  a  case. 


SO-3  QENTLE  MEASURES. 

But  now  to  bring  in  the  element  of  sympathy  as  a  means 
of  reaching  and  influencing  the  mind  of  the  child :  The 
mother,  we  will  suppose,  standing  at  the  door  some  morn 
ing  before  breakfast  in  spring,  with  her  little  daughter,  sev 
en  or  eight  years  old,  by  her  side,  hears  a  bird  singing  on  a 
tree  near  by.  She  points  to  the  tree,  and  says,  in  a  half- 
whisper,  «  Hark !" 

When  the  sound  ceases,  she  looks  to  the  child  witli  an 
expression  of  pleasure  upon  her  countenance,  and  says, 

"  Suppose  we  give  that  bird  some  crumbs  because  he 
has  been  singing  us  such  a  pretty  song." 

"  Well !"  says  the  child. 

"  Would  you  ?"  asks  the  mother. 

"  Yes,  mother,  I  should  like  to  give  him  some  very  much. 
I>o  you  suppose  he  sang  the  song  for  us  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  he  did,"  replies  the  mother.  "  We 
don't  know  exactly  what  the  birds  mean  by  all  their  sing 
ing.  They  take  some  pleasure  in  seeing  us,  I  think,  or  else 
they  would  not  come  so  much  around  our  house;  and  I 
don't  know  but  that  this  bird's  song  may  come  from  some 
kind  of  joy  or  gladness  he  felt  in  seeing  us  come  to  the 
door.  At  any  rate,  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to  us  to  give  him 
some  crumbs  to  pay  him  for  his  song." 

The  child  will  think  so  too,  and  will  run  off  joyfully  to 
bring  a  piece  of  bread  to  form  crumbs  to  be  scattered  upon 
the  path. 

And  the  whole  transaction  will  have  the  effect  of  awak 
ening  and  cherishing  the  sentiment  of  gratitude  in  her 
heart.  The  effect  will  not  be  great,  it  is  true,  but  it  will 
be  of  the  right  kind.  It  will  be  a  drop  of  water  upon  the 
unfolding  cotyledons  of  a  seed  just  peeping  up  out  of  the 
ground,  which  will  percolate  below  after  you  have  gone 
away,  and  give  the  little  roots  a  new  impulse  of  growth. 
For  when  you  have  left  the  child  seated  upon  the  door-step, 


GRATITUDE  IN  CHILDREN.  303 

occupied  in  throwing  out  the  crumbs  to  the  bird,  her  heart 
will  be  occupied  with  the  thoughts  you  have  put  into  it, 
and  the  sentiment  of  gratitude  for  kindness  received  will 
commence  its  course  of  development,  if  it  had  not  com 
menced  it  before. 

The  Case  of  older  Children. 

Of  course  the  employment  of  such  an  occasion  as  this  of 
the  singing  of  a  little  bird  and  such  a  conversation  in  re 
spect  to  it  for  cultivating  the  sentiment  of  gratitude  in  the 
heart,  is  adapted  only  to  the  case  of  quite  a  young  child. 
For  older  children,  while  the  principle  is  the  same,  the  cir 
cumstances  and  the  manner  of  treating  the  case  must  l>e 
adapted  to  a  maturer  age.  Robert,  for  example — twelve 
years  of  age — had  been  sick,  and  during  his  convalescence; 
his  sister  Mary,  two  years  older  than  himself,  had  been 
very  assiduous  in  her  attendance  upon  him.  She  had  wait 
ed  upon  him  at  his  meals,  and  brought  him  books  and  play 
things,  from  time  to  time,  to  amuse  him.  After  he  had  fully 
recovered  his  health,  he  was  sitting  in  the  garden,  one  sun 
ny  morning  in  the  spring,  with  his  mother,  and  she  said, 
"  How  kind  Mary  wras  to  you  while  you  were  sick !" 
"  Yes,"  said  Robert,  "  she  was  very  kind  indeed." 
"  If  you  would  like  to  do  something  for  her  in  return," 
continued  his  mother, "  I'll  tell  you  what  would  be  a  good 
plan." 

Robert,  who,  perhaps,  without  this  conversation  would 
not  have  thought  particularly  of  making  any  return,  said 
he  should  like  to  do  something  for  her  very  much. 

"  Then,"  said  his  mother,  "  you  might  make  her  a  gar 
den.  I  can  mark  off  a  place  for  a  bed  for  her  large  enough 
to  hold  a  number  of  kinds  of  flowers,  and  then  you  can  dig 
it  up,  and  rake  it  over,  and  lay  it  off  into  little  beds,  and 
sow  the  seeds.  I'll  buy  the  seeds  for  you.  I  should  like 


S04  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

to  do  something  towards  making  the  garden  for  her,  for 
she  helped  me  a  great  deal,  as  well  as  you,  in  the  care  she 
took  of  you." 

"  Well,"  said  Robert,  « I'll  do  it." 

"  You  are  well  and  strong  now,  so  you  can  do  it  pretty 
easily,"  added  the  mother ;  "  but  still,  unless  you  would  like 
to  do  it  yourself  for  her  sake,  I  can  get  the  man  to  do  it. 
13 ut  if  you  would  like  to  do  it  yourself,  I  think  it  would 
please  her  very  much  as  an  expression  of  your  gratitude 
and  love  for  her." 

"Yes,"  said  Robert,  "I  should  a  great  deal  rather  do  it 
myself,  and  I  will  begin  this  very  day." 

And  yet,  if  his  mother  had  not  made  the  suggestion,  he 
would  probably  not  have  thought  of  making  any  such  re 
turn,  or  even  any  return  at  all,  for  his  sister's  devoted  kind 
ness  to  him  when  he  was  sick.  In  other  words,  the  senti 
ment  of  gratitude  was  in  his  heart,  or,  rather,  the  capacity 
for  it  was  there,  but  it  needed  a  little  fostering  care  to 
bring  it  out  into  action.  And  the  thing  to  be  observed  is, 
that  by  this  fostering  care  it  was  not  only  brought  out  at 
the  time,  but,  by  being  thus  brought  out  and  drawn  into 
action,  it  was  strengthened  and  made  to  grow,  so  as  to  be 
ready  to  come  out  itself  without  being  called,  on  the  next 
occasion.  It  was  like  a  little  plant  just  coming  out  of  the 
ground  under  influences  not  altogether  favorable.  It  needs 
a  little  help  and  encouragement ;  and  the  aid  that  is  giv7en 
by  a  few  drops  of  water  at  the  right  time  will  bring  it  for 
ward  and  help  it  to  attain  soon  such  a  degree  of  strength 
and  vigor  as  will  make  it  independent  of  all  external  aid. 

But  there  must  be  consideration,  tact,  a  proper  regard 
to  circumstances,  and,  above  all,  there  must  be  no  secret 
and  selfish  ends  concealed,  on  the  part  of  the  mother  in 
such  cases.  You  may  deluge  and  destroy  your  little  plant 
by  throwing  on  the  water  roughly  or  rudely ;  or,  in  the 


GRATITUDE  IN  CHILDREN.  305 

case  of  a  boy  upon  whose  mind  you  seem  to  be  endeavor 
ing  to  produce  some  moral  result,  you  may  really  have  in 
view  some  object  of  your  own — your  interest  in  the  moral 
result  being  only  a  pretense. 

For  instance,  Egbert,  under  circumstances  similar  to 
those  recited  above — in  respect  to  the  sickness  of  the  boy, 
and  the  kind  attentions  of  his  sister — came  to  his  mother 
one  afternoon  for  permission  to  go  a-fishing  with  some 
other  boys  who  had  called  for  him.  He  was  full  of  excite 
ment  and  enthusiasm  at  the  idea.  But  his  mother  was  not 
willing  to  allow  him  to  go.  The  weather  was  lowering. 
She  thought  that  he  had  not  yet  fully  recovered  his  health  ; 
and  she  was  afraid  of  other  dangers.  Instead  of  saying 
calmly,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  to  show  that  her  answer 
was  a  deliberate  one,  that  he  could  not  go,  and  then  quiet 
ly  and  firmly,  but  without  assigning  any  reasons,  adhering 
to  her  decision — a  course  which,  though  it  could  not  have 
saved  the  boy  from  emotions  of  disappointment,  would  be 
the  best  for  making  those  feelings  as  light  and  as  brief  in 
duration  as  possible — began  to  argue  the  case  thus : 

"  Oh  no,  Egbert,  I  would  not  go  a-fishing  this  afternoon, 
if  1  were  you.  I  think  it  is  going  to  rain.  Besides,  it  is  a 
nice  cool  day  to  work  in  the  garden,  and  Lucy  would  like 
to  have  her  garden  made  very  much.  You  know  that  she 
was  very  kind  to  you  when  you  were  sick — how  many 
things  she  did  for  you ;  and  preparing  her  garden  for  her 
would  be  such  a  nice  way  of  making  her  a  return.  I  am 
sure  you  would  not  wrish  to  show  yourself  ungrateful  for 
so  much  kindness." 

Then  follows  a  discussion  of  some  minutes,  in  which 
Egbert,  in  a  fretful  and  teasing  tone,  persists  in  urging  his 
desire  to  go  a-fishing.  He  can  make  the  garden,  he  says, 
some  other  day.  His  mother  finally  yields,  though  with 
great  unwillingness,  doing  all  she'  can  to  extract  all  gra- 


306  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

ciousncss  and  sweetness  from  her  consent,  and  to  spoil 
the  pleasure  of  the  excursion  to  the  boy,  by  saying  as  he 
goes  away,  that  she  is  sure  he  ought  not  to  go,  and  that 
she  shall  be  uneasy  about  him  all  the  time  that  he  is  gone. 

Now  it  is  plain  that  such  management  as  this,  though 
it  takes  ostensibly  the  form  of  a  plea  on  the  part  of  the 
mother  in  favor  of  a  sentiment  of  gratitude  in  the  heart 
of  the  boy,  can  have  no  effect  in  cherishing  and  bringing 
forward  into  life  any  such  sentiment,  even  if  it  should  be 
already  existent  there  in  a  nascent  state;  but  can  only 
tend  to  make  the  object  of  it  more  selfish  and  heartless 
than  ever. 

Thus  the  art  of  cultivating  the  sentiment  of  gratitude, 
as  is  the  case  in  all  other  departments  of  moral  training, 
can  not  be  taught  by  definite  lessons  6*r  learned  by  rote. 
It  demands  tact  and  skill,  and,  above  all,  an  honest  and 
guileless  sincerity.  The  mother  must  really  look  to,  and 
aim  for  the  actual  moral  effect  in  the  heart  of  the  child, 
and  not  merely  make  formal  efforts  ostensibly  for  this  end, 
but  really  to  accomplish  some  temporary  object  of  her 
own.  Children  easily  see  through  all  covert  intentions  of 
any  kind.  They  sometimes  play  the  hypocrite  themselves, 
but  they  are  always  great  detectors  of  hypocrisy  in  others. 

But  gentle  and  cautious  efforts  of  the  right  kind — such 
as  require  no  high  attainments  on  the  part  of  the  mother, 
but  only  the  right  spirit — will  in  time  work  wonderful  ef 
fects  ;  and  the  mother  who  perseveres  in  them,  and  who 
does  not  expect  the  fruits  too  soon,  will  watch  with  great 
interest  for  the  time  to  arrive  when  her  boy  will  sponta 
neously,  from  the  promptings  of  his  own  heart,  take  some 
real  trouble,  or  submit  to  some  real  privation  or  self-de 
nial,  to  give  pleasure  to  her.  She  will  then  enjoy  the 
double  gratification,  first,  of  receiving  the  pleasure,  what 
ever  it  may  be,  that  her  boy  has  procured  for  her,  and 


GRATITUDE  IN  CHILDREN.  S07 

also  the  joy  of  finding  that  the  tender  plant  which  she  has 
watched  and  watered  so  long,  and  wrhich  for  a  time  seemed 
so  frail  that  she  almost  despaired  of  its  ever  coming  to 
any  good,  is  really  advanced  to  the  stage  of  beginning  to 
bear  fruit,  and  giving  her  an  earnest  of  the  abundant  fruits 
which  she  may  confidently  expect  from  it  in  future  years. 


30t  QVJVVL.fi   MSA&UEB& 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 
RELIGIOUS  TEAINING. 

IT  has  been  my  aim  in  this  volume  to  avoid,  as  far  as 
possible,  all  topics  involving  controversy,  and  only  to  pre 
sent  such  truths,  and  to  elucidate  such  principles,  as  can  be 
easily  made  to  commend  themselves  to  the  good  sense  and 
the  favorable  appreciation  of  all  the  classes  of  minds  likely 
to  be  found  among  the  readers  of  the  work.  There  are 
certain  very  important  aspects  of  the  religious  question 
which  may  be  presented,  I  think,  without  any  serious  de 
viation  from  this  policy. 

In  what  True  Piety  consists. 

Indeed,  I  think  there  is  far  more  real  than  seeming 
agreement  among  parents  in  respect  to  this  subject,  or 
rather  a  large  portion  of  the  apparent  difference  consists 
in  different  modes  of  expressing  in  words  thoughts  and 
conceptions  connected  with  spiritual  things,  which  from 
their  very  nature  can  not  any  of  them  be  adequately  ex 
pressed,  in  language  at  all ;  and  thus  it  happens  that  what 
are  substantially  the  same  ideas  are  customarily  clothed  by 
different  classes  of  persons  in  very  different  phraseology, 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  same  set  of  phrases  actually 
represent  in  different  minds  very  different  sets  of  ideas. 

For  instance,  there  is  perhaps  universal  agreement  in  the 
idea  that  some  kind  of  change — a  change,  too,  of  a  very  im 
portant  character — io  implied  in  the  implanting  or  devel 
oping  of  the  spirit  of  piety  in  the  heart  of  a  child.  There 
is  also  universal  agreement  in  the  fact — often  very  emphat- 


RELIGIOUS  TItALNING.  CO'J 

ically  assorted  in  the  New  Testament — that  the  essential 
principles  in  which  true  piety  consists  are  those  of  entire 
submission  in  all  things  to  the  will  of  God,  and  cordial 
kind  feeling  towards  every  man.  There  is  endless  dis 
agreement,  and  much  earnest  contention  among  different 
denominations  of  Christians,  in  respect  to  the  means  by 
which  the  implanting  of  these  principles  is  to  be  secured, 
and  to  the  modes  in  which,  when  implanted,  they  will  man 
ifest  themselves ;  but  there  is  not,  so  far  as  would  appear, 
any  dissent  whatever  anywhere  from  the  opinion  that  the 
end  to  be  aimed  at  is  the  implanting  of  these  principles — 
that  is,  that  it  consists  in  bringing  the  heart  to  a  state  of 
complete  and  cordial  submission  to  the  authority  and  to 
the  will  of  God,  and  to  a  sincere  regard  for  the  welfare 
and  happiness  of  wery  human  being. 

A.  Question  of  Words. 

There  seems,  at  first  view,  to  be  a  special  difference  of 
opinion  in  respect  to  the  nature  of  the  process  by  which 
these  principles  come  to  be  implanted  or  developed  in  the 
minds  of  the  young;  for  all  must  admit  that  in  early  infan 
cy  they  are  not  there,  or,  at  least,  that  they  do  not  appear. 
No  one  would  expect  to  find  in  two  infants — twin-brothers, 
we  will  suppose — creeping  on  the  floor,  with  one  apple  be 
tween  them,  that  there  could  be,  at  that  age,  any  principles 
of  right  or  justice,  or  of  brotherly  love  existing  in  their 
hearts  that  could  prevent  their  both  crying  and  quarrelling 
for  it.  "  True,"  says  one ;  "  but  there  are  germs  of  those 
principles  which,  in  time,  will  be  developed."  "  No,"  re 
joins  another,  "there  are  no  germs  of  them,  there  are  only 
capacities  for  them,  through  which,  by  Divine  power,  the 
germs  may  hereafter  be  introduced."  But  when  we  reflect 
upon  the  difficulty  of  forming  any  clear  and  practical  idea 
of  the  difference  between  a  germ — in  a  bud  upon  an  apple- 


310  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

tree,  for  instance — which  may  ultimately  produce  fruit,  and 
a  capacity  for  producing  it  which  may  subsequently  be  de 
veloped,  and  still  more,  how  difficult  is  it  to  picture  to  our 
minds  what  is  represented  by  these  words  in  the  case  of  a 
human  soul,  it  would  seem  as  if  the  apparent  difference  in 
people's  opinions  on  such  a  point  must  be  less  a  difference 
in  respect  to  facts  than  in  respect  to  the  phraseology  by 
which  the  facts  should  be  represented. 

And  there  would  seem  to  be  confirmation  of  this  view  in 
the  fact  that  the  great  apparent  difference  among  men  in 
regard  to  their  theoretical  views  of  human  nature  does  not 
seem  to  produce  any  marked  difference  in  their  action  in 
practically  dealing  with  it.  Some  parents,  it  is  true,  habit 
ually  treat  their  children  with  gentleness,  kindness,  and 
love;  others  are  harsh  and  severe  in  all  their  intercourse 
with  them.  But  we  should  find,  on  investigation,  that  such 
differences  have  very  slight  connection  with  the  theoretical 
views  of  the  nature  of  the  human  soul  which  the  parents 
respectively  entertain.  Parents  who  in  their  theories  seem 
to  think  the  worst  of  the  native  tendencies  of  the  human 
heart  are  often  as  kind  and  considerate  and  loving  in  their 
dealings  with  it  as  any;  while  no  one  would  be  at  all  sur 
prised  to  find  another,  who  is  very  firm  in  his  belief  in  the 
native  tendency  of  childhood  to  good,  showing  himself,  in 
practically  dealing  with  the  actual  conduct  of  children,  fret 
ful,  impatient,  complaining,  and  very  ready  to  recognize,  in 
fact,  tendencies  which  in  theory  he  seems  to  deny.  And 
so,  two  bank  directors,  or  members  of  the  board  of  man 
agement  of  any  industrial  undertaking,  when  they  meet 
in  the  street  on  Sunday,  in  returning  from  their  respective 
places  of  public  worship,  if  they  fall  into  conversation  on 
the  moral  nature  of  man,  may  find,  or  think  they  find,  that 
they  differ  extremely  in  their  views,  and  may  even  think 
each  other  bigoted  or  heretical,  as  the  case  may  be;  but  yet 


RELIGIOUS  TRAINING.  311 

the  next  clay,  when  they  meet  at  a  session  of  their  board, 
and  come  to  the  work  of  actually  dealing  with  the  conduct 
and  the  motives  of  men,  they  may  find  that  there  is  prac 
tically  no  difference  between  them  whatever.  Or,  if  there 
should  be  any'  difference,  such  as  would  show  itself  in  a 
greater  readiness  in  one  than  in  the  other  to  place  confi 
dence  in  the  promises  or  to  confide  in  the  integrity  of  men, 
the  difference  would,  in  general,  have  no  perceptible  rela 
tion  whatever  to  the  difference  in  the  theological  phraseol 
ogy  which  they  have  been  accustomed  to  hear  and  to  assent 
to  in  their  respective  churches.  All  which  seems  to  indi 
cate,  as  has  already  been  said,  that  the  difference  in  ques 
tion  is  rather  apparent  than  real,  and  that  it  implies  less 
actual  disagreement  about  the  facts  of  human  nature  than 
diversity  in  the  phraseology  by  which  the  facts  are  repre 
sented. 

Agency  of  the  Divine  Spirit. 

It  may,  however,  be  said  that  in  this  respect,  if  not  in  any 
other,  there  is  a  radical  difference  among  parents  in  respect 
to  human  nature,  in  relation  to  the  religious  education  of 
children — namely,  that  some  think  that  the  implanting  of 
the  right  principles  of  repentance  for  all  wrong-doing,  and 
sincere  desires  for  the  future  to  conform  in  all  things  to 
the  will  of  God,  and  seek  the  happiness  and  welfare  of  men, 
can  not  come  except  by  a  special  act  of  Divine  intervention, 
and  is  utterly  beyond  the  reach — in  respect  to  any  actual  ef 
ficiency — of  all  human  instrumentalities.  This  is  no  doubt 
true ;  but  it  is  also  no  less  true  in  respect  to  all  the  powers 
and  capacities  of  the  human  soul,  as  well  as  to  those  per 
taining  to  moral  and  religious  duty.  If  the  soul  itself  is 
the  product  of  the  creative  agency  of  God,  all  its  powers 
and  faculties  must  be  so,  and,  consequently,  the  develop 
ment  of  them  all — and  there  certainly  can  be  no  reason  for 


31:3  VENTLE  MEA.SURL* 

making  the  sentiment  of  true  and  genuine  piety  an  excep 
tion — must  be  the  work  of  the  same  creative  power. 

But  some  one  may  say,  There  is,  however,  after  all,  a  dif 
ference;  for  while  we  all  admit  that  both  the  original  en 
trance  of  the  embryo  soul  into  existence,  and  every  step  of 
its  subsequent  progress  and  development,  including  the 
coming  into  being  arid  into  action  of  all  its  various  facul 
ties  and  powers,  are  the  work  of  the  Supreme  creative  pow 
er,  the  commencement  of  the  divine  life  in  the  soul  is,  in  a 
special  and  peculiar  sense,  the  work  of  the  Divine  hand. 

And  this  also  is  doubtless  true ;  at  least,  there  is  a  cer 
tain  important  truth  expressed  in  that  statement.  And  yet 
when  we  attempt  to  picture  to  our  minds  two  modes  of 
Divine  action,  one  of  which  is  special  and  peculiar,  and  the 
other  is  not  so,  we  are  very  likely  to  find  ourselves  bewil 
dered  and  confused,  and  we  soon  perceive  that  in  making 
such  inquiries  we  are  going  out  of  our  depth — or,  in  other 
words,  are  attempting  to  pass  beyond  the  limits  which 
mark  the  present  boundaries  of  human  knowledge. 

In  view  of  these  thoughts  and  suggestions,  in  the  truth 
of  which  it  would  seem  that  all  reasonable  persons  must 
concur,  we  may  reasonably  conclude  that  all  parents  who 
are  willing  to  look  simply  at  the  facts,  and  who  are  not  too 
much  trammelled  by  the  forms  of  phraseology  to  which 
they  are  accustomed,  must  agree  in  admitting  the  substan 
tial  soundness  of  the  following  principles  relating  to  the  re 
ligious  education  of  children. 

Order  of  Development  in  respect  to  different  Propensities 
and  Powers. 

1.  We  must  not  expect  any  perceptible  awakening  of  the 
moral  and  religious  sentiments  too  soon,  nor  feel  discour 
aged  and  disheartened  because  they  do  not  earlier  appear ; 
for,  like  all  the  other  higher  attributes  of  the  soul,  they  per- 


RELIGIOUS  TRAINING.  315 

tain  to  a  portion  of  the  mental  structure  which  is  not  early 
developed.  It  is  the  group  of  purely  animal  instincts  that 
first  show  themselves  in  the  young,  and  those  even,  as  we 
see  in  the  young  of  the  lower  animals,  generally  appear 
somewhat  in  the  order  in  which  they  are  required  for  the 
individual's  good.  Birds  just  hatched  from  the  egg  seem 
to  have,  for  the  first  few  days,  only  one  instinct  ready  for 
action — that  of  opening  their  mouths  wide  at  the  approach 
of  any  thing  towards  their  nest.  Even  this  instinct  is  so 
imperfect  and  immature  that  it  can  not  distinguish  between 
the  coming  of  their  mother  and  the  appearance  of  the  face 
of  a  boy  peering  down  upon  them,  or  even  the  rustling  of 
the  leaves  around  them  by  a  stick.  In  process  of  time,  as 
their  wings  become  formed,  another  instinct  begins  to  ap 
pear — that  of  desiring  to  use  the  wings  and  come  forth 
into  the  air.  The  development  of  this  instinct  and  the 
growth  of  the  wings  advance  together.  Later  still,  when 
the  proper  period  of  maturity  arrives,  other  instincts  ap 
pear  as  they  are  required — such  as  the  love  of  a  mate,  the 
desire  to  construct  a  nest,  and  the  principle  of  maternal  af 
fection. 

Now  there  is  something  analogous  to  this  in  the  order  of 
development  to  be  observed  in  the  progress  of  the  human 
being  through  the  period  of  infancy  to  that  of  maturity, 
and  we  must  not  look  for  the  development  of  any  power  or 
susceptibility  before  its  time,  nor  be  too  much  troubled  if 
we  find  that,  in  the  first  two  or  three  years  of  life,  the  ani 
mal  propensities — which  are  more  advanced  in  respect  to 
the  organization  which  they  depend  upon — seem  sometimes 
to  overpower  the  higher  sentiments  and  principles,  which, 
so  far  as  the  capacity  for  them  exists  at  all,  must  be  yet  in 
embryo.  "VVe  must  be  willing  to  wait  for  each  to  be  devel 
oped  in  its  own  appointed  time. 


816  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

Dependence  upon  Divine  Aid. 

2.  Any  one  who  is  ready  to  feel  and  to  acknowledge  his 
dependence  upon  Divine  aid  for  any  thing  whatever  in  the 
growth  and  preservation  of  his  child,  will  surely  be  ready 
to  do  so  in  respect  to  the  work  of  developing  or  awakening 
in  his  heart  the  principles  of  piety,  since  it  must  be  admitted 
by  all  that  the  human  soul  is  the  highest  of  all  the  mani 
festations  of  Divine  power,  and  that  that  portion  of  its 
structure  on  which  the  existence  and  exercise  of  the  moral 
and  religious  sentiments  depend  is  the  crowning  glory  of 
it.     It  is  right,  therefore — I  mean  right,  in  the  sense  of  be- 
being  truly  philosophical — that  if  the  parent  feels  and  ac 
knowledges   his   dependence    upon  Divine  power  in   any 
thing,  he  should  specially  feel  and  acknowledge  it  here ; 
while  there  is  nothing  so  well  adapted  as  a  deep  sense  of 
this  dependence,  and  a  devout  and  habitual  recognition  of 
it,  and  reliance  upon  it,  to  give  earnestness  and  efficiency  to 
his  efforts,  and  to  furnish  a  solid  ground  of  hope  that  they 
will  be  crowned  with  success. 

The  Christian  Paradox. 

3.  The  great  principle  so  plainly  taught  in  the  Sacred 
Scriptures — namely,  that  while  we  depend  upon  the  exer 
cise  of  Divine  power  for  the  success  of  all  our  efforts  for 
our  own  spiritual  improvement  or  that  of  others,  just  as  if 
we  could  do  nothing  ourselves,  we  must  do  every  thing  that 
is  possible  ourselves,  just  as  if  nothing  was  to  be  expected 
from  Divine  power — may  be  called  the  Christian  paradox. 
"Work  out  your  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling, 
for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do." 
It  would  seem,  it  might  be  thought,  much  more  logical  to 
say,  "  Work  out  your  own  salvation,  for  there  is  nobody  to 
help  you ;"  or, "  It  is  not  necessary  to  make  any  effort  your- 


RELIGIOUS  TRAINING.  317 

selves,  for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in  you."  It  seems  strange 
and  paradoxical  to  say,  "  Work  out  your  own  salvation,  for 
it  is  God  that  worketh  in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do." 

But  in  this,  as  in  all  other  paradoxes,  the  difficulty  is  in 
the  explanation  of  the  theory,  and  not  in  the  practical  work 
ing  of  it.  There  is  in  natural  philosophy  what  is  called  the 
hydrostatic  paradox,  which  consists  in  the  fact  that  a  small 
quantity  of  any  liquid — as,  for  example,  the  coffee  in  the 
nose  of  the  coffee-pot — will  balance  and  sustain  a  very 
much  larger  quantity — as  that  contained  in  the  body  of  it 
— so  as  to  keep  the  surface  of  each  at  the  same  leveL 
Young  students  involve  themselves  sometimes  in  hopeless 
entanglements  among  the  steps  of  the  mathematical  demon 
stration  showing  how  this  can  be,  but  no  housekeeper  ever 
meets  with  any  practical  difficulty  in  making  her  coffee  rest 
quietly  in  its  place  on  account  of  it.  The  Christian  para 
dox,  in  the  same  way,  gives  rise  to  a  great  deal  of  meta 
physical  floundering  and  bewilderment  among  young  theo 
logians  in  their  attempts  to  vindicate  and  explain  it,  but 
the  humble-minded  Christian  parent  finds  no  difficulty  in 
practice.  It  comes  very  easy  to  him  to  do  all  he  can,  just- 
as  if  every  thing  depended  upon  his  efforts,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  cast  all  his  care  upon  God,  just  as  if  there  was  noth 
ing  at  ah1  that  he  himself  could  do. 

Means  must  be  Eight  Means. 

4.  "VYe  are  apt  to  imagine — or,  at  least,  to  act  sometimes 
as  if  we  imagined — that  our  dependence  upon  the  Divine 
aid  for  what  our  Saviour,  Jesus,  designated  as  the  new 
birth,  makes  some  difference  in  the  obligation  on  our  part 
to  employ  such  means  as  are  naturally  adapted  to  the  end 
in  view.  If  a  gardener,  for  example,  were  to  pour  sand 
from  his  watering-pot  upon  his  flowers,  in  time  of  drought, 
instead  of  water,  he  might  make  something  like  a  plausible 


318  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

defense  of  his  action,  in  reply  to  a  remonstrance,  thus :  "1" 
have  no  power  to  make  the  flowers  grow  and  bloom.  The 
secret  processes  on  which  the  successful  result  depends  are 
altogether  beyond  my  reach,  and  in  the  hands  of  God,  and 
he  can  just  as  easily  bless  one  kind  of  instrumentality  as 
another.  I  am  bound  to  do  something,  it  is  true,  for  I  must 
not  be  idle  and  inert ;  but  God,  if  he  chooses  to  do  so,  can 
easily  bring  out  the  flowers  into  beauty  and  bloom,  how 
ever  imperfect  and  ill-adapted  the  instrumentalities  I  use 
may  be.  He  can  as  easily  make  use,  for  this  purpose,  of 
sand  as  of  water." 

Now,  although  there  may  be  a  certain  plausibility  in 
this  reasoning,  such  conduct  would  appear  to  every  one 
perfectly  absurd ;  and  yet  many  parents  seem  to  act  on  a 
similar  principle.  A  mother  who  is  from  time  to  time, 
during  the  week,  fretful  and  impatient,  evincing  no  sincere 
and  hearty  consideration  for  the  feelings,  still  less  for  the 
substantial  welfare  and  happiness,  of  those  dependent  upon 
her ;  who  shows  her  insubmission  to  the  will  of  God,  by 
complaints  and  repinings  at  any  thing  untoward  that  be 
falls  her ;  and  who  evinces  a  selfish  love  for  her  own  grat 
ification — her  dresses,  her  personal  pleasures,  and  her  fash 
ionable  standing ;  and  then,  as  a  means  of  securing  the  sal 
vation  of  her  children,  is  very  strict,  when  Sunday  comes, 
in  enforcing  upon  them  the  study  of  their  Sunday  lessons, 
or  in  requiring  them  to  read  good  books,  or  in  repressing 
on  that  day  any  undue  exuberance  of  their  spirits — relying 
upon  the  blessing  of  God  upon  her  endeavors — will  be  very 
apt  to  find,  in  the  end,  that  she  has  been  watering  her  deli 
cate  flowers  with  sand. 

The  means  which  we  use  to  awaken  or  impart  the  feel 
ings  of  sorrow  for  sin,  submission  to  God,  and  cordial 
good-will  to  man,  in  which  all  true  piety  consists,  must  be 
means  that  are  appropriate  in  themselves  to  the  accom- 


RELIGIOUS  TRAINING.  319 

plishmcnt  of  the  end  intended.  The  appliance  must  be 
water,  and  not  sand — or  rather  water  or  sand,  with  judg 
ment,  discrimination,  and  tact ;  for  the  gardener  often  finds 
that  a  judicious  mixture  of  sand  with  the  clayey  and 
clammy  soil  about  the  roots  of  his  plants  is  just  what  is 
required.  The  principle  is,  that  the  appliance  must  be  an 
appropriate  one — that  is,  one  indicated  by  a  wise  consid 
eration  of  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  and  of  the  natural 
characteristics  of  the  infantile  mind. 

Power  of  Sympathy. 

5.  In  respect  to  religious  influence  over  the  minds  of 
children,  as  in  all  other  departments  of  early  training,  the 
tendency  to  sympathetic  action  between  the  heart  of  the 
child  and  the  parent  is  the  great  source  of  the  parental 
influence  and  power.  The  principle,  "  Make  a  young  per 
son  love  you,  and  then  simply  be  in  his  presence  what  you 
wish  him  to  be,"  is  the  secret  of  success. 

The  tendency  of  young  children  to  become  what  they 
see  those  around  them  whom  they  love  are,  seems  to  be 
altogether  the  most  universally  acting  and  the  most  pow 
erful  of  the  influences  on  which  the  formation  of  the  char 
acter  depends ;  and  yet  it  is  remarkable  that  we  have  no 
really  appropriate  name  for  it.  We  call  it  sometimes  sym 
pathy  ;  but  the  word  sympathy  is  associated  more  fre 
quently  in  our  minds  with  the  idea  of  compassionate  par 
ticipation  in  the  sufferings  of  those  we  love.  Sometimes  we 
term  it  a  spirit  of  imitation,  but  that  phrase  implies  rather 
a  conscious  effort  to  act  like  those  whom  we  love,  than 
that  involuntary  tendency  to  become  like  them,  which  is  the 
real  character  of  the  principle  in  question.  The  principle  is 
in  some  respects  like  what  is  called  induction  in  physical 
science,  which  denotes  the  tendency  of  a  body,  which  is  in 
any  particular  magnetic  or  electric  condition,  to  produce 


320  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

the  same  condition,  and  the  same  direction  of  polarity,  in 
any  similar  body  placed  near  it.  There  is  a  sort  of  moral 
induction,  which  is  not  exactly  sympathy,  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  that  word,  nor  a  desire  of  imitation,  nor  the  power 
of  example,  but  an  immediate,  spontaneous,  and  even  un 
conscious  tendency  to  become  what  those  around  us  are. 
This  tendency  is  very  strong  in  the  young  while  the  open 
ing  faculties  are  in  the  course  of  formation  and  develop 
ment,  and  it  is  immensely  strengthened  by  the  influence 
of  love.  Whatever,  therefore,  a  mother  wishes  her  child 
to  be — whether  a  sincere,  honest  Christian,  submissive  to 
God's  will  and  conscientious  in  the  discharge  of  every 
duty,  or  proud,  vain,  deceitful,  hypocritical,  and  pharisaical 
—she  has  only  to  be  either  the  one  or  the  other  herself, 
and  without  any  special  teaching  her  child  will  be  pretty 
sure  to  be  a  good  copy  of  the  model. 

Theological  Instruction. 

G.  If  the  principle  above  stated  is  correct,  it  helps  to 
explain  why  so  little  good  effect  is  ordinarily  produced  by 
what  may  be  called  instruction  in  theological  truth  on  the 
minds  of  the  young.  Any  system  of  theological  truth 
consists  of  grand  generalizations,  which,  like  all  other  gen 
eralizations,  arc  very  interesting,  and  often  very  profitable, 
to  mature  minds,  especially  to  minds  of  a  certain  class ; 
but  they  are  not  appreciable  by  children,  and  can  only  in 
general  be  received  by  them  as  words  to  be  fixed  in  the 
memory  by  rote.  Particulars  first,  generalizations  after 
wards,  is,  or  ought  to  be,  the  order  of  progress  in  all  ac 
quisition  of  knowledge.  This  certainly  has  been  the  course 
pursued  by  the  Divine  Spirit  in  the  moral  training  of  the 
human  race.  There  is  very  little  systematic  theology  in 
the  Old  Testament,  and  it  requires  a  considerable  degree 
of  ingenuity  to  make  out  as  much  as  the  theologians  de- 


RELIGIOUS  TRAINING.  321 

sire  to  find  even  in  the  teachings  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  is 
very  well  to  exercise  this  ingenuity,  and  the  systematic  re 
sults  which  are  to  be  obtained  by  it  may  be  very  interest 
ing,  and  very  beneficial,  to  those  whose  minds  are  mature 
enough  to  enter  into  and  appreciate  them.  But  they  are 
not  adapted  to  the  spiritual  wants  of  children,  and  can 
only  be  received  by  them,  if  they  are  received  at  all,  in  a 
dry,  formal,  mechanical  manner.  Read,  therefore,  the  sto 
ries  in  the  Old  Testament,  or  the  parables  and  discourses 
of  Jesus  in  the  New,  without  attempting  to  draw  many  in 
ferences  from  them  in  the  way  of  theoretical  belief,  but 
simply  to  bring  out  to  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  child  the 
moral  point  intend.ed  in  each  particular  case,  and  the  heart 
of  the  child  will  be  touched,  and  he  will  receive  an  element 
of  instruction  which  he  can  arrange  and  group  with  oth 
ers  in  theological  generalization  by-and-by,  when  his  facul 
ties  have  advanced  to  the  generalizing  stage. 

No  repulsive  Personal  Applications. 
7.  In  reading  the  Scriptures,  and,  indeed,  in  all  forms 
of  giving  religious  counsel  or  instruction,  we  must  gener 
ally  beware  of  presenting  the  thoughts  that  we  commu 
nicate  in  the  form  of  reproachful  personal  application. 
There  may  be  exceptions  to  this  rule,  but  it  is  undoubt 
edly,  in  general,  a  sound  one.  For  the  work  which  we 
have  to  do,  is  not  to  attempt  to  drive  the  heart  from  the 
wrong  to  the  right  by  any  repellent  action  which  the 
wrong  may  be  made  to  exert,  but  to  allure  it  by  an  at 
tractive  action  with  which  the  right  may  be  invested.  We 
must,  therefore,  present  the  incidents  and  instructions  of 
the  Word  in  their  alluring  aspect — assuming,  in  a  great 
measure,  that  our  little  pupil  will  feel  pleasure  with  us  in 
the  manifestations  of  the  right,  and  will  sympathize  with 
us  in  disapproval  of  the  wrong.  To  secure  them  to  our 

02 


333  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

side,  in  the  views  which  we  take,  we  must  show  a  dispo 
sition  to  take  them  to  it  by  an  affectionate  sympathy. 

Our  Saviour  set  us  an  excellent  example  of  relying  on 
the  superior  efficiency  of  the  bond  of  sympathy  and  love 
in  its  power  over  the  hearts  of  children,  as  compared  with 
that  of  formal  theological  instruction,  in  the  few  glimpses 
which  we  have  of  his  mode  of  dealing  with  them.  When 
they  brought  little  children  to  him,  he  did  not  begin  to  ex 
pound  to  them  the  principles  of  the  government  of  God,  or 
the  theoretical  aspects  of  the  way  of  salvation;  but  took 
them  up  in  his  arms  and  blessed  them,  and  called  the  atten 
tion  of  the  by-standers  at  the  same  time  to  qualities  and 
characteristics  which  they  possessed  that  he  seemed  to  re 
gard  with  special  affection,  and  which  others  must  imitate 
to  be  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God.  Of  course  the  children 
went  away  pleased  and  happy  from  such  an  interview,  and 
would  be  made  ready  by  it  to  receive  gladly  to  their  hearts 
any  truths  or  sentiments  which  they  might  subsequently 
hear  attributed  to  one  who  was  so  kind  a  friend  to  them. 

If,  however,  instead  of  this,  he  had  told  them — no  matter 
in  what  kind  and  gentle  tones — that  they  had  very  wicked 
hearts,  which  must  be  changed  before  either  God  or  any 
good  man  could  truly  love  them,  and  that  this  change  could 
only  be  produced  by  a  power  which  they  could  only  under 
stand  to  be  one  external  to  themselves,  and  that  they  must 
earnestly  pray  for  it  every  day,  how  different  would  have 
been  the  effect.  They  would  have  listened  in  mute  dis 
tress,  would  have  been  glad  to  make  their  escape  when  the 
conversation  was  ended,  and  would  shrink  from  ever  seeing 
or  hearing  again  one  who  placed  himself  in  an  attitude  so 
uncongenial  to  them. 

And  yet  all  that  might  be  true.  They  might  have  had 
yet  only  such  appetites  and  propensities  developed  within 
them  as  would,  if  they  continued  to  hold  paramount  control 


RELIGIOUS  TRAINING.  323 

over  them  all  their  lives,  make  them  selfish,  unfeeling,  and 
wicked  men ;  and  that  they  were,  in  a  special  though  mys 
terious  manner,  dependent  on  the  Divine  power  for  bring 
ing  into  action  within  them  other  and  nobler  principles. 
And  so,  if  a  physician  were  called  in  to  see  a  sick  child,  he 
might  see  that  it  was  in  desperate  danger,  and  that  unless 
something  could  be  done,  and  that  speedily,  to  arrest  the 
disease,  his  little  patient  would  be  dead  in  a  few  hours ; 
and  yet  to  say  that  to  the  poor  child,  and  overwhelm  it 
with  terror  and  distress,  would  not  be  a  very  suitable 
course  of  procedure  for  averting  the  apprehended  result. 

Judge  not,  that  ye  be  not  judged. 

8.  And  this  leads  us  to  reflect,  in  the  eighth  place,  that 
we  ought  to  be  very  careful,  in  our  conversations  wTith  chil 
dren,  and  especially  in  addresses  made  to  them  in  the  Sun 
day-school,  or  on  any  other  occasion,  not  to  say  any  thing 
to  imply  that  we  consider  them  yet  unconverted  sinners. 
No  one  can  possibly  know  at  how  early  an  age  that  great 
change  which  consists  in  the  first  faint  enkindling  of  the  Di 
vine  life  in  the  soul  may  begin  to  take  place,  nor  with  what 
faults,  and  failings,  and  yieldings  to  the  influence  of  the 
mere  animal  appetites  and  passions  of  childhood  it  may,  for 
a  time,  co-exist.  We  should  never,  therefore,  say  any  thing 
to  children  to  imply  that,  in  the  great  question  of  their  re 
lations  to  God  and  the  Saviour,  we  take  it  for  granted  that 
they  are  on  the  wrong  side.  We  can  not  possibly  know  on 
which  side  they  really  are,  and  we  only  dishearten  and  dis 
courage  them,  and  alienate  their  hearts  from  us,  and  tend 
to  alienate  them  from  all  good,  by  seeming  to  take  it  for 
granted  that,  while  we  are  on  the  right  side,  they  are  still 
upon  the  wrong.  We  should,  in  a  word,  say  ice,  and  not 
you,  in  addressing  children  on  religious  subjects,  so  as  to 
imply  that  the  truths  and  sentiments  which  we  express  are 


324  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

equally  important  and  equally  applicable  to  us  as  to  them, 
and  thus  avoid  creating  that  feeling  of  being  judged  and 
condemned  beforehand,  and  without  evidence,  which  is  so 
apt  to  produce  a  broad  though  often  invisible  gulf  of  sepa 
ration  in  heart  between  children,  on  the  one  hand,  and  min 
isters  and  members  of  the  Church,  on  the  other. 

Promised  Rewards  and  threatened  Punishments. 

9.  It  is  necessary  to  be  extremely  moderate  and  cautious 
in  employing  the  influence  of  promised  rewards  or  threat 
ened  punishments  as  a  means  of  promoting  early  piety.  In 
a  religious  point  of  view,  as  in  every  other,  goodness  that  is 
bought  is  only  a  pretense  of  goodness — that  is,  in  reality  it 
is  no  goodness  at  all;  and  as  it  is  true  that  love  casteth  out 
fear,  so  it  is  also  true  that  fear  casteth  out  love.  Suppose 
— though  it  is  almost  too  violent  a  supposition  to  be  made 
even  for  illustration's  sake — that  the  whole  Christian  world 
could  be  suddenly  led  to  believe  that  there  was  to  be  no 
happiness  or  suffering  at  all  for  them  beyond  the  grave,  and 
that  the  inducement  to  be  grateful  to  God  for  his  goodness 
and  submissive  to  his  will,  and  to  be  warmly  interested  in 
the  welfare  and  happiness  of  man,  were  henceforth  to  rest 
on  the  intrinsic  excellence  of  those  principles,  and  to  their 
constituting  essentially  the  highest  and  noblest  development 
of  the  moral  and  spiritual  nature  of  man — how  many  of 
the  professed  disciples  of  Jesus  would  abandon  their  pres 
ent  devotion  to  the  cause  of  love  to  God  and  love  to  man? 
Not  one,  except  the  hypocrites  and  pretenders  ! 

The  truth  is,  that  as  piety  that  is  genuine  and  sincere 
must  rest  on  very  different  foundations  from  hope  of  fu 
ture  reward  or  fear  of  future  punishment,  so  this  hope  and 
this  fear  are  very  unsuitable  instrumentalities  to  be  relied 
on  for  awakening  it.  The  kind  of  gratitude  to  God  which 
we  wish  to  cherish  in  the  mind  of  a  child  is  not  such  as 


RELIGIOUS  TRAINING.  325 

would  bo  awakened  towards  an  earthly  benefactor  by  say 
ing — in  the  case  of  a  present  made  by  an  uncle,  for  instance 
— "  Your  uncle  has  made  you  a  beautiful  present.  Go  and 
thank  him  very  cordially,  and  perhaps  you  will  get  anoth 
er."  It  is  rather  of  a  kind  which  might  be  induced  by 
saying,  "  Your  uncle,  who  has  been  so  kind  to  you  in  past 
years,  is  poor  and  sick,  and  can  never  do  any  thing  more 
for  you  now.  Would  you  like  to  go  and  sit  in  his  sick 
room,  to  show  your  love  for  him,  and  to  be  ready  to  help 
him  if  he  wants  any  thing?" 

True  piety,  in  a  word,  which  consists  in  entering  into 
and  steadily  maintaining  the  right  moral  and  spiritual  re 
lations  with  God  and  man,  marks  the  highest  condition 
which  the  possibilities  of  human  nature  allow,  and  must 
rest  in  the  soul  which  attains  to  it  on  a  very  different 
foundation  from  any  thing  like  hope  or  fear.  That  there 
is  a  function  which  it  is  the  province  of  these  motives  to 
fulfill,  is  abundantly  proved  by  the  use  that  is  sometimes 
made  of  them  in  the  Scriptures.  But  the  more  we  reflect 
upon  the  subject,  the  more  we  shall  be  convinced,  I  think, 
that  all  such  considerations  ought  to  be  kept  very  much  in 
the  back-ground  in  our  dealings  with  children.  If  a  child 
is  sick,  and  is  even  likely  to  die,  it  is  a  very  serious  ques 
tion  whether  any  warning  given  to  him  of  his  danger  will 
not  operate  as  a  hindrance  rather  than  a  help,  in  awaken 
ing  those  feelings  which  will  constitute  the  best  state  of 
preparation  for  the  change.  For  a  sense  of  gratitude  to 
God  for  his  goodness,  and  to  the  Saviour  for  the  sacrifice 
which  he  made  for  his  sake,  penitence  for  his  sins,  and 
trust  in  the  forgiving  mercy  of  his  Maker,  are  the  feelings 
to  be  awakened  in  his  bosom ;  and  these,  so  far  as  they 
exist,  will  lead  him  to  lie  quietly,  calmly,  and  submissively 
in  God's  hands,  without  anxiety  in  respect  to  what  is  be 
fore  him.  It  is  a  serious  question  whether  an  entire  un- 


336  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

certainty  as  to  the  time  when  his  death  is  to  come  is  not 
more  favorable  to  the  awakening  of  these  feelings,  than 
the  state  of  alarm  and  distress  which  would  be  excited  by 
the  thought  that  it  was  near. 

The  Reasonableness  of  Gentle  Measures  in  Religious 
Training. 

The  mother  may  sometimes  derive  from  certain  religious 
considerations  the  idea  that  she  is  bound  to  look  upon  the 
moral  delinquencies  and  dangers  which  she  observes  in  her 
children,  under  an  aspect  more  stern  and  severe  than  seems 
to  be  here  recommended.  But  a  little  reflection  must  con 
vince  us  that  the  way  to  true  repentance  of,  and  turning 
from  sin,  is  not  necessarily  through  the  suffering  of  terror 
and  distress.  The  Gospel  is  not  an  instrumentality  for  pro 
ducing  terror  and  distress,  even  as  means  to  an  end.  It 
is  an  instrumentality  for  saving  us  from  these  ills ;  and 
the  Divine  Spirit,  in  the  hidden  and  mysterious  influence 
which  it  exercises  in  forming,  or  transforming,  the  human 
soul  into  the  image  of  God,  must  be  as  ready,  it  would 
seem,  to  sanction  and  bless  efforts  made  by  a  mother  to 
allure  her  child  away  from  its  sins  by  loving  and  gentle 
invitations  and  encouragements,  as  any  attempts  to  drive 
her  from  them  by  the  agency  of  terror  or  pain.  It  would 
seem  that  no  one  who  remembers  the  way  in  which  Jesus 
Christ  dealt  with  the  children  that  were  brought  to  him 
could  possibly  have  any  doubt  of  this. 


CONC1 USION.  32? 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
CONCLUSION. 

person  who  has  acquired  the  art  of  examining  and 
analyzing  his  own  thoughts  will  generally  find  that  the 
mental  pictures  which  he  forms  of  the  landscapes,  or  the 
interiors,  in  which  the  scenes  are  laid  of  the  events  or  in 
cidents  related  in  any  work  of  fiction  which  interests  him, 
are  modelled  more  or  less  closely  from  prototypes  pre 
viously  existing  in  his  own  mind,  and  generally  upon  those 
furnished  by  the  experiences  of  his  childhood.  If,  for  ex 
ample,  he  reads  an  account  of  transactions  represented  as 
taking  place  in  an  English  palace  or  castle,  he  will  usually, 
on  a  careful  scrutiny,  find  that  the  basis  of  his  conception 
of  the  scene  is  derived  from  the  arrangement  of  the  rooms 
of  some  fine  house  with  which  he  was  familiar  in  early 
life.  Thus,  a  great  many  things  which  attract  our  atten 
tion,  and  impress  themselves  upon  our  memories  in  child 
hood,  become  the  models  and  prototypes — more  or  less  ag 
grandized  and  improved,  perhaps — of  the  conceptions  and 
images  which  we  form  in  later  years. 

Nature  of  the  Effect  produced  by  Early  Impressions. 

Few  persons  who  have  not  specially  reflected  on  this 
subject,  or  examined  closely  the  operations  of  their  own 
minds,  are  aware  what  an  extended  influence  the  images 
thus  stored  in  the  mind  in  childhood  have  in  forming  the 
basis,  or  furnishing  the  elements  of  the  mental  structures 
of  future  life.  But  the  truth,  when  once  understood,  shows 
of  what  vast  importance  it  is  with  what  images  the  youth- 


828  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

ful  mind  is  to  be  stored.  A  child  who  ascends  a  lofty 
mountain,  under  favorable  circumstances  in  his  childhood, 
has  his  conceptions  of  all  the  mountain  scenery  that  he 
reads  of,  or  hears  of  through  life,  modified  and  aggran 
dized  by  the  impression  made  upon  his  sensorium  at  this 
early  stage.  Take  your  daughter,  who  has  always,  we  will 
suppose,  lived  in  the  country,  on  an  excursion  with  you  to 
the  sea-shore,  and  allow  her  to  witness  for  an  hour,  as  she 
sits  in  silence  on  the  cliff,  the  surf  rolling  in  incessantly 
upon  the  beach,  and  infinitely  the  smallest  part  of  the  ef 
fect  is  the  day's  gratification  which  you  have  given  her. 
That  is  comparatively  nothing.  You  have  made  a  life-long 
change,  if  not  in  the  very  structure,  at  least  in  the  perma 
nent  furnishing  of  her  mind,  and  performed  a  work  that 
can  never  by  any  possibility  be  undone.  The  images  which 
have  been  awakened  in  her  mind,  the  emotions  connected 
with  them,  and  the  effect  of  these  images  and  emotions 
upon  her  faculties  of  imagination  and  conception,  will  in 
fuse  a  life  into  them  which  will  make  her,  in  respect  to  this 
aspect  of  her  spiritual  nature,  a  different  being  as  long  as 
she  lives. 

The  Nature  and  Origin  of  general  Ideas. 
It  is  the  same  substantially  in  respect  to  all  those  ab 
stract  and  general  ideas  on  moral  or  other  kindred  subjects 
which  constitute  the  mental  furnishing  of  the  adult  man, 
and  have  so  great  an  influence  in  the  formation  of  his  hab 
its  of  thought  and  of  his  character.  They  are  chiefly  form 
ed  from  combinations  of  the  impressions  made  in  childhood. 
A  person's  idea  of  justice,  for  instance,  or  of  goodness,  is  a 
generalization  of  the  various  instances  of  justice  or  good 
ness  which  ever  came  to  his  knowledge;  and  of  course, 
among  the  materials  of  this  generalization  those  instances 
that  were  brought  to  his  mind  during  the  impressible  years 


CONCLUSION.  329 

of  childhood  must  have  taken  a  very  prominent  part.  Ev 
ery  story,  therefore,  which  you  relate  to  a  child  to  exempli 
fy  the  principles  of  justice  or  goodness  takes  its  place,  or, 
rather,  the  impression  which  it  makes  takes  its  place,  as  one 
of  the  elements  out  of  which  the  ideas  that  are, to  govern 
his  future  life  are  formed. 

Vast  Importance  and  Influence  of  this  mental  Far- 
nishiny. 

For  the  ideas  and  generalizations  thus  mainly  formed 
from  the  images  and  impressions  received  in  childhood  be 
come,  in  later  years,  the  elements  of  the  machinery,  so  to 
speak,  by  which  all  his  mental  operations  are  performed. 
Thus  they  seem  to  constitute  more  than  the  mere  furniture 
of  the  mind ;  they  form,  as  it  were,  almost  a  part  of  the 
structure  itself.  So  true,  indeed,  is  this,  and  so  engrossing 
a  part  does  what  remains  in  the  mind  of  former  impres 
sions  play  in  its  subsequent  action,  that  some  philosophers 
have  maintained  that  the  whole  of  the  actual  consciousness 
of  man  consists  only  in  the  resultant  of  all  these  impres 
sions  preserved  more  or  less  imperfectly  by  the  memory, 
and  made  to  mingle  together  in  one  infinitely  complicated 
but  harmonious  whole.  Without  going  to  any  such  extreme 
as  this,  we  can  easily  see,  on  reflection,  how  vast  an  influence 
on  the  ideas  and  conceptions,  as  well  as  on  the  principles  of 
action  in  mature  years,  must  be  exerted  by  the  nature  and 
character  of  the  images  which  the  period  of  infancy  and 
childhood  impresses  upon  the  mind.  All  parents  should, 
therefore,  feel  that  it  is  not  merely  the  present  welfare  and 
happiness  of  their  child  that  is  concerned  in  their  securing 
to  him  a  tranquil  and  happy  childhood,  but  that  his  capaci 
ty  for  enjoyment  through  life  is  greatly  dependent  upon  it. 
They  are,  in  a  very  important  sense,  intrusted  with  the 
work  of  building  up  the  structure  of  his  soul  for  all  time, 


ooO  GENTLE  MEASURES. 

and  it  is  incumbent  upon  them,  with  reference  to  the  future 
as  well  as  to  the  present,  to  be  very  careful  what  materials 
they  allow  to  go  into  the  work,  as  well  as  in  what  manner 
they  lay  them. 

Among  the  other  bearings  of  this  thought,  it  gives  great 
weight  to  the  importance  of  employing  gentle  measures  in 
the  management  and  training  of  the  young,  provided  that 
such  measures  can  be  made  effectual  in  the  accomplishment 
of  the  end.  The  pain  produced  by  an  act  of  hasty  and  an 
gry  violence  to  which  a  father  subjects  his  son  may  soon 
pass  away,  but  the  memory  of  it  does  not  pass  away  with 
the  pain.  Even  the  remembrance  of  it  may  at  length  fade 
from  the  mind,  but  there  is  still  an  effect  which  does  not 
pass  away  with  the  remembrance.  Every  strong  impres 
sion  which  you  make  upon  his  perceptive  powers  must 
have  a  very  lasting  influence,  and  even  the  impression  it 
self  may,  in  some  cases,  be  forever  indelible. 

Let  us,  then,  take  care  that  these  impressions  shall  be,  as 
far  as  possible,  such  as  shall  be  sources  of  enjoyment  for 
them  in  future  years.  It  is  true  that  we  must  govejn 
them.  They  are  committed  to  our  charge  during  the  long 
time  which  is  required  for  the  gradual  unfolding  of  their 
embryo  powers  for  the  express  purpose  that  during  that 
interval  they  may  be  guided  by  our  reason,  and  not  by 
their  own.  We  can  not  surrender  this  trust.  But  there 
is  a  way  of  faithfully  fulfilling  the  duties  of  it— if  we  have 
discernment  to  see  it,  and  skill  to  follow  it — which  will 
make  the  years  of  their  childhood  years  of  tranquillity  and 
happiness,  both  to  ourselves  and  to  them. 


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Henry  VII.  to  the  Death  of  George  II.  By  HENRY  HALLAM. 
8vo,  Cloth,  $2  00;  Sheep,  $2  50. 

NEWCOMB'S  ASTRONOMY.  Popular  Astronomy.  By  SIMON 
NEWCOMB,  LL.D.  With  112  Engravings,  and  5  Maps  of  the 
Stars.  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  50;  School  Edition,  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  30. 

VAN-LENNEP'S  BIBLE  LANDS.  Bible  Lands:  their  Modern 
Custom  and  Manners  Illustrative  of  Scripture.  By  HENRY  J. 
VAN-LENNEP,  D.D.  350  Engravings  and  2  Colored  Maps.  8vo, 
Cloth,  $5  00 ;  Sheep,  $G  00 ;  Half  Morocco,  $8  00. 

PRIME'S  POTTERY  AND  PORCELAIN.  Pottery  and  Porce 
lain  of  All  Times  and  Nations.  With  Tables  of  Factory  and 
Artists'  Marks,  for  the  Use  of  Collectors.  By  WILLIAM  C. 
PRIME,  LL.D.  Illustrated.  8vo,  Cloth,  Uncut  Edges  and  Gilt 
Tops,  $7  00 ;  Half  Calf,  $9  25.  (In  a  Box.) 


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